Cleared for Takeoff

Chapter 4 The Last Illusion

Just as Eleanor leaned in to get a better look at the screen, Winslow's voice floated through the phone, warm and attentive. "Nikki, what's going on?"

"Winslow, I finished the soup. Can you come pick me up and take me home? This medical station smells terrible."

Even across the line, the smile in his reply was impossible to miss. "Of course, baby. Wait for me at the north gate of the terminal. I'm on my way right now."

Nicole's eyes curved with satisfaction. She put on an exaggeratedly sweet tone and asked, "But what about Eleanor? It looks like she still hasn't eaten anything..."

Winslow hesitated for half a second, then answered with clear impatience. "Don't worry about her. She's a grown woman. If she's actually hungry, she can order takeout like anyone else."

They exchanged a few more sticky, affectionate words before finally hanging up. In that moment, Winslow seemed to have completely forgotten that the woman lying in the medical station, still hooked to an IV, bloodstains covering her clothes, and an empty stomach, was actually his wife.

The very last flicker of hope inside Eleanor's chest felt like it had been hit with a bucket of ice water. The cold sank straight into her bones and spread everywhere.

"Eleanor, how does that feel?" Nicole gloated, her voice dripping with triumph like a little girl who had just stolen the best toy on the playground. Every inch of her face glowed with open pride.

Eleanor said nothing at all. She simply turned over in silence. In the hidden corner of the pillow, where no one could see, her tears soaked through the fabric.

After a moment, she went to the bathroom. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone and dialed her old supervisor, Samuel Yates. "Mr. Yates, I want to come back to the base now. Is that still possible?"

She could hear the faint roar of airplane propellers in the background. Samuel's voice came through strong and full of energy. At first, he sounded genuinely delighted. "Of course it is! I've been waiting for you to say that." Then he paused, a note of confusion creeping in. "Wait, didn't I hear you were about to be promoted to flight instructor recently? Why the sudden change..."

He must have sensed the pain in her silence even through the phone because he did not push for details. Instead, he added gently, "If you decide to come back, just talk things over nicely with your husband. Building a family takes work, you know."

"Okay."

Eleanor knew he was only trying to look out for her. They chatted for a few more minutes before she hung up.

She lay there staring blankly at the cold white ceiling while memories crashed through her mind like waves.

The flight instructor promotion Samuel had mentioned—she had turned it down long ago.

Ever since she became the first female chief captain last year, she had faced constant sideways glances from the other pilots. Even Winslow's eyes toward her had grown colder with every passing month.

She had overheard the whispers in the break room: without her in the picture, that chief captain position would have gone to Winslow.

Guilt had eaten away at her, so she had pretended not to notice his growing distance. She kept telling herself it was just a phase. Once he calmed down, he would come back to her.

But after everything that happened today, she finally saw the truth with painful clarity.

Those words he had spat out while drunk that night had not been a mistake at all. "Why do you always have to show off? In training, you were always number one, and now at work, you still have to fight me for first place. Can you just disappear? Get the hell away from me and stop showing up in front of my eyes!"

Eleanor gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. With her other hand, she pressed hard against her eyes and let out small, broken sobs.

Tears slipped between her fingers and spread dark stains across the white sheet. Her quiet, stifled crying echoed through the empty medical room like a wounded puppy licking its injuries in the dark.

She remembered how Winslow's eyes used to burn with warmth whenever he looked at her. How had they turned into nothing but freezing indifference?

He was the one who had carried her to the infirmary when she scraped her knees on the field, staying by her side for an entire day and night, refusing to leave even when his eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion.

He was the one who had fumbled through recipes, ruined a pan, and still proudly brought her two simple dishes he had managed to make.

In every emergency drill back then, she had been the one he protected and cherished with all his heart.

Why had everything changed so completely?

On their wedding day, he had promised to love her for the rest of his life. Yet in only three short years, every bit of that love had been handed over to someone else.

The thought felt bitterly absurd. Winslow's "rest of his life" had turned out to be heartbreakingly short.

That same night, after the IV finished, Eleanor made her way home. Only then did she notice the message Samuel had sent.

Samuel: I already spoke with your superiors. In three days, someone will come to pick you up.

Eleanor replied right away, accepting without hesitation.