The gap between me and the world

One year ago, Ashley—my pilot boyfriend’s idealized ex—threw a tantrum mid-flight.

She slammed her high heel into the cabin window, triggering a catastrophic decompression.

As a flight attendant, I fought with everything I had to plug the breach, saving over a hundred lives.

Afterwards, I insisted we call the police. Ashley was sentenced to nine years in prison.

At the time, Louis held me and said he understood my choice, that he loved me.

But later, on our honeymoon, Louis himself piloted the flight to Paradise Island.

When the cabin depressurization alarm blared and passengers screamed, scrambling for oxygen masks,

I rushed to the cockpit and saw a sight I would never forget.

Louis was manually overriding the cabin pressure controls, his face utterly calm.

“What are you doing?”

His voice came through the intercom, each word a knife:

“Stephanie, you sent Ashley to prison, ruined nine years of her life. I’m just making you pay with yours.”

“Now we’re even.”

When I opened my eyes again, everything had reset.

This time, I was done playing the hero. Let’s see how they handle their own mess.

…

A piercing scream clawed me out of the void.

Blinking, I found myself in a seat, the cabin around me so familiar it was etched into my bones. I was wearing civilian clothes.

Panicked passengers scrambled as oxygen masks dropped from the overhead compartments.

Not far away, a figure in a flight attendant’s uniform was shrieking. Beneath her feet, a cabin window webbed with cracks, a fist-sized hole at its center screaming as it sucked the air from the cabin.

Ashley.

My entire body jolted. I snapped my gaze to my wristwatch.

The date, the time—down to the second. Exactly the same.

I had come back.

I’d returned to the day Ashley smashed the airplane window.

In my last life, the moment I heard that shattering sound, I’d unbuckled my seatbelt and charged forward like a robot programmed for rescue.

This time, I pressed down hard on the seatbelt buckle, my knuckles white.

I told myself, *Stephanie, stay calm.*

*This is their mess. Not yours.*

*You’re just a regular passenger on vacation.*

*You have no duty to save anyone.*

“Ah! Help! I don’t want to die!” Ashley slumped on the floor, tears streaking her meticulously applied makeup. A perfect performance.

Donna, the head flight attendant, rushed over first, directing other crew to calm passengers and distribute oxygen bottles.

She glanced at the hole, her face instantly draining of color. Her eyes swept the crowd, finally landing on me.

“Stephanie! Now! Come help! You know what to do!” Donna’s voice held a note of command.

Last time, I’d obeyed without hesitation.

Now, I just calmly put on my own oxygen mask, gave a slight shake of my head, and closed my eyes.

My refusal landed like a bomb in the tense silence.

Donna froze, unable to believe it.

Ashley, as if clutching at straws, scrambled toward me on hands and knees, wailing pitifully, “Stephanie! I know I was wrong! Please, save us! You can’t just let us die!”

Her hand shot out to grab my pant leg. I kicked it away.

“Get lost.”

The entire cabin seemed to fall silent.

Every eye was on me—shock, confusion, but mostly condemnation.

“How can she do that? We’re all in this together!”

“Isn’t she a flight attendant? How can she just stand by?”

“Dressed so nicely, but her heart is so cold!”

Whispers buzzed around me. In my past life, I’d cared so much about that so-called professional reputation and moral pressure.

Now, those words were just noise.

Right then, the cabin speakers crackled with the voice I hated to my core.

“Passengers, please remain calm. This is your captain, Louis. We are initiating an emergency descent. Please trust us. We will ensure your safety.”

His voice was as steady and magnetic as ever, perfectly crafted to soothe.

Then, his tone shifted, taking on an unyielding, commanding edge: “Stephanie, I order you to immediately assist the cabin crew in handling this emergency!”

Order?

A cold laugh escaped me.

Did he think he was still the boyfriend who could boss me around?

I picked up the internal phone behind my seat and pressed the button connecting to the cockpit.

“Captain Louis,” I deliberately emphasized the title, my voice clear and icy, “First, I am currently on leave, not an active crew member. You have no authority to give me orders. Second, according to aviation safety regulations, while off-duty, I have no obligation to participate in any rescue operations.”

Silence on the other end.

I could imagine the shock and fury on Louis’s face.

“Stephanie! Are you insane? There are over a hundred lives on the line!” His voice finally cracked.

“Really?” I gave a light laugh. “And who smashed the window? Your precious Ashley. You should be ordering *her*, not me.”

With that, I hung up.

Ashley was completely dumbfounded. She hadn’t expected me to expose her.

The passengers around us erupted.

“What? That flight attendant did it?”

“Oh my god! Why would she do that?”

“She’s insane! A lunatic!”

Their anger instantly turned on Ashley. A few near her even started shoving.

Terrified out of her wits, Ashley cried and screamed, “It wasn’t me! It wasn’t! She’s lying! Louis! Save me!”

Once again, she pinned her hopes on Louis.

And Louis, true to form, didn’t let her down.

The broadcast came on again, his voice now carrying a protective note: “Passengers, please remain calm! Ashley simply made a momentary mistake! It wasn’t intentional! The most important thing now is to resolve the situation! Stephanie, I know you’re upset with me, but now is not the time for a tantrum!”

So casually, he labeled Ashley’s deadly act a “momentary mistake,” while painting my steely refusal as a “tantrum.”

What a master of twisting the truth, Captain Louis.

I picked up the phone again, my voice cold. “Louis, you want me to save you? Fine. But I have conditions.”