Watching My Cheating Pilot Lose His Wings

"Reid, I had this flown in specially from overseas—best cold medicine you can get. Take it now and you'll be sharp as ever for tomorrow's checkride!"

That voice.

I snapped my eyes open.

Reid's face — my boyfriend of five years — and Ivy standing beside him, his childhood sweetheart, holding a cup of something warm.

I'd come back.

Back to the night before Reid's captain upgrade checkride.

The same apartment. The same moment. My past life, playing out in front of me again.

As a senior aviation medical officer, I recognized what was in that cup the second I saw it. Cold medicine—loaded with ephedrine and antihistamines. Both banned substances for pilots. For a regular person, it's just something you grab at the pharmacy. For a pilot, it might as well be poison. The FAA doesn't mess around: test positive for either compound in a pre-flight drug screening and you're grounded. Test positive during an official evaluation and you lose your license. For good.

In my past life, I'd known exactly what that cup would cost him.

I'd panicked. Rushed forward and knocked it out of Ivy's hands before Reid could touch it.

Scalding liquid splashed across the floor. Ivy shrieked, then collapsed into Reid's arms, tears streaming down her face. "Sloane, I know you don't like me—but I was only trying to help him get better..."

She'd known Reid since they were kids. Never let either of us forget it.

Reid pulled her close and shoved me. Hard.

I wasn't ready for it. The back of my head caught the corner of the coffee table. Everything went red.

After that, Reid passed his checkride. Put on his four stripes.

Then he went public with Ivy, and spent the next few months telling everyone at the airline that I was controlling, obsessive, unhinged. He said I'd been so consumed by jealousy I hadn't even cared about his health. His friends ran with it. His fans took it online—slut-shaming threads, coordinated harassment. One of them cornered me on my way home and shoved me down a flight of stairs.

The last thing I remember from that life is the look on Reid's face.

Cold. Empty.

"Sloane. A selfish woman like you? You got exactly what you deserved."

"Sloane, why aren't you saying anything?"

Ivy's voice dragged me back. Sweet on the surface, barbed underneath.

"You're literally an aviation medical officer and you can't be bothered to look after Reid when he's sick? I guess someone has to."

I looked at the two of them.

Reid frowned, impatient. "She means well, Sloane. Can you stop with that face? Like I owe you something."

He reached for the cup.

My heart was hammering. Not from fear.

From something that felt a lot like excitement.

I kept my face still. Let a slow smile pull at the corner of my mouth.

This time around, I was done with the savior complex.

Whatever they'd set in motion, I was going to let it play out.

"You're right," I said. I stepped back, clearing the space between them. "Ivy's only trying to help. That smells strong, Reid—must be the good stuff." I met his eyes. "Drink it while it's hot. Don't leave a drop."

Reid blinked. He hadn't expected that.

Ivy recovered quickly, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. "See, Reid? Even Sloane thinks it's good. Go on."

Reid snorted, picked up the cup, and drained it in one go.

"Now that's more like it." He wiped his mouth and looked at me like he was doing me a favor. "You finished putting together my study notes for tomorrow? Bring them to me. I need to review."

I watched him swallow the last of it.

In my mind, I could already see the notice. License revoked. Permanent. No appeal.

"Study notes?" I laughed—just once. "Reid. We're done."