Chapter 2

Anya's POV

The surgery was a success.

The doctor said he had been moved from the Intensive Care Unit to a VIP room, but the burns on his back and arm would require long-term care.

I hadn't slept a wink all night. When morning broke, the rain had stopped, but the sky remained overcast.

I didn't rush to the hospital. Instead, I called my lawyer first.

That prenuptial agreement had been drafted by the Thorne family three years ago.

Back then, I was so caught up in the joy of finally marrying the man I loved that I signed it without even glancing at it.

Looking back now, perhaps that was the only right thing I did in this misguided marriage.

The lawyer's voice was polite and calm, but my heart felt hollowed out.

After ending the call, I finally grabbed my car keys and headed to the hospital.

The corridor was long, the air hung heavy with the scent of antiseptic.

Before I even reached the door, I saw them through the small glass pane.

Willow sat by the hospital bed, holding a cotton swab, clumsily dabbing the medication, carefully applying it to his wounds.

Her hands trembled, her expression focused and gentle.

And he, in turn, watched her, his expression tender.

In that moment, I suddenly had a ridiculous illusion—

As if I were the unwanted intruder in someone else's world.

I didn't push the door open.

I just stood there quietly, my fingertips resting on the doorknob.

"Julian, I'm so sorry," Willow's voice choked. "It's all my fault. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be hurt."

His voice was weak and gentle: "Silly girl, it's not your fault. I could never just watch you be in danger."

My breath caught, my chest tightened.

"But your hands…" she began to cry. "You worked so hard to become a pilot. I've ruined your dream."

I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

Perhaps I was waiting for a reason to completely give up.

He chuckled softly, a tenderness and doting in his laughter that I'd never heard before.

"You've got one thing wrong, Willow. My dream of becoming a pilot and soaring through the sky? That dream itself was for you."

"You said you loved watching the sea of clouds, loved freedom, wanted to go anywhere in the world. So I thought, if I could fly a plane, I could take you anywhere you wanted to go. My dream wasn't flying; it was flying with you."

—Boom.

In that moment, my mind felt like it had been struck by lightning.

So that was it.

All his efforts, his glory, his convictions, had never belonged to me.

I once thought flying was the unshakeable faith of his life,

I respected him, supported him,

To ensure he was free from worries, I resigned from my designer job, becoming the woman behind him—

Keeping the house meticulously organized, learning to take care of his diet and daily life, even carefully preparing his birthday gifts to revolve around "flying."

Turns out, I thought I was protecting his dream,

But in reality, I was protecting only the shadow of another woman.

Every takeoff and landing of his flight carried the weight of his deep affection for Willow.

And I was just a bystander in that dream.

I slowly withdrew my hand, straightening my back, and left that door.

No sound, no glance back.

I walked very slowly down that long corridor,

Each step felt like walking on the grave of my own marriage.

—

After leaving the hospital, I received a call from Captain Miller.

"Mrs. Thorne," his voice was tinged with helplessness and apology. "There's something… I think you should know."

I agreed to meet him at a coffee shop.

He handed me a brown envelope.

"Julian wrote this a long time ago and kept it locked in the company locker. We found it when tidying up."

I nodded and tore open the envelope.

Inside was a resignation letter.

It was addressed to the airline, but it read more like a love letter.

He wrote that he chose to fly because of a girl's dream from his youth.

He endured the toughest training, overcoming all difficulties, just so that one day, he could personally pilot a plane and take her to see the landscapes she most wanted to see.

And now, she was back—

So he decided to give up flying, no longer chasing the clouds, because he wanted to stay on the ground to be with her.

The date on the letter was the day after Willow returned to the country.

In that moment, I suddenly understood.

He hadn't impulsively chosen her in the fire;

He had decided to give up everything for her the moment she returned—

His career, his marriage, even himself.

I refolded the letter, put it back in the envelope, my fingertips ice-cold.

Captain Miller looked at me, seeming to want to say something, but in the end, he just sighed softly: "Please take care."

"Thank you." I smiled, my tone so calm it surprised even myself.

After leaving the coffee shop, I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time.

"Hello? Is this Anya?" A familiar, gentle voice came from the other end.

It was Leo, my university senior.

Now a partner at a top design firm.

"Leo, it's me." I tried to keep my voice steady. "You once mentioned wanting me to join your studio… is the offer still on the table?"

He paused for a moment, then, with clear surprise, said, "Of course! Always! Have you decided?"

I looked out the window. City traffic flowed like a river.

Car after car reflected in the post-rain sunlight, blurred yet dazzling.

"Yes." I softly replied. "I've decided. I'll come once I've settled things here."

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