On my thirtieth birthday, Kevin took me on a helicopter ride—alongside his beloved Anya Lawson, no less. Midway through the flight, we encountered a mechanical failure, and there were only two parachutes available. Faced with the decision of saving me or saving her, he unhesitatingly chose her.

"Anya's life is just beginning," he explained, "and I can't let it end here. Don't worry, once we're safe, I'll come back for you."

He had no idea that I had staged the malfunction to test him.

Kevin hurriedly assisted Anya with her parachute, anxiety etched on his face, desperate to ensure the safety of his cherished one. I remained silent, observing the scene unfold. Kevin secured his own parachute, holding Anya's hand firmly.

Just before jumping, he looked at me. "Maya, please don't hold this against me. You've always had everything you wanted, but Anya hasn't had those opportunities."

So, the chance to live must go to her? I wanted to ask, but the words lingered unspoken. In that moment, Kevin and Anya jumped, fingers intertwined, leaving me behind.

I pressed a button on the cockpit's panel, and the malfunction alert vanished. Watching the couple embrace mid-air shattered my heart entirely. It was my thirtieth birthday, our seventh year together, and this was how it ended.

I took the pilot's seat, flying the helicopter back to the base alone. After landing, I changed out of my flight suit and overheard some employees murmuring.

"Did you hear? The young heir, Kevin, and his girlfriend had a skydiving accident."

"Anya's in the hospital now, and he's hired top specialists for her treatment, spending millions."

"He even knelt outside the operating room, begging for her survival."

Every word cut like a dagger to my heart. I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms, feeling the sting as they pierced the skin.

I called Mario, my friend overseas who had known my grandfather well. He managed a helicopter experience center abroad and had offered me several times to work there as an instructor. But back then, I was with Kevin Gonzalez and pregnant with his child, so I had turned down the offer. Now, I was finally ready to go.

Mario was thrilled when I shared the news. "Maya, I'll arrange someone to pick you up. You should arrive the day after tomorrow."

"Sounds fantastic, Mario," I responded.

After our call, I noticed Kevin had posted an update on Facebook. It was an image with a prayer for safety and the caption: "Please, let her be safe."

The post had a flood of comments, speculating that he was referring to me during the seventh year of our relationship.

"Hey, Kevin, has something happened to your wife? Do you need us to come over and assist?"

"Is everything alright with the baby?"

Kevin consistently replied, "It's not her. Anya is in trouble."

My heart dropped as I gripped my phone tightly, tears splashing onto the screen.

Kevin and I had first crossed paths at the helicopter center. At the time, he was the youngest instructor there and introduced me to flying. I frequently visited, always requesting him specifically. As time passed, he developed feelings for me and confessed. I was five years older, and was initially skeptical about a relationship with someone younger. Yet, he was persistent, showering me with flowers and chocolates. Once, he even saved me from a mugging, which eventually led me to agree to be with him.

We got married during a delightful Thanksgiving gathering, deeply in love, and he treated me wonderfully. However, it wasn't long before I noticed signs of his betrayal. In the deleted photos on his phone, there were compromising images with Anya Lawson. His mobile banking records showed regular transfers to her. Despite my heartbreak, I couldn't bring myself to leave him because I loved him too deeply, so I forgave him time and again.

Upon arriving at the clinic, I arranged for the procedure to end my pregnancy. The baby was already five months along, fully formed. The doctor seemed shocked and asked several times, "Your child is perfectly healthy. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"I’m sure." Speaking those words was painful, but I knew I had no choice. I couldn't bring a child into a life of unhappiness; that felt irresponsible.

I still remembered Kevin's excitement when I first told him I was pregnant. He posted updates on social media, proudly declaring he was going to be a father and promising to change his ways. He quit smoking and drinking, came home on time every day, showered me with gifts on special occasions, and whispered sweet nothings every night. That's why I couldn’t comprehend how someone so wonderful could betray me, and why I hadn’t confronted him yet.

With the appointment slip in hand, I saw Kevin sitting on a bench not far off, his head in his hands, eyes red.

"Maya, please be okay. If anything happens to you, I don't want to live," he muttered, seemingly forgetting the urgency of getting me out of there.

I wondered if I hadn’t orchestrated today's events, would I have disappeared with that plane by now?

Kevin suddenly looked up, his face filled with disbelief. "Maya, what are you doing here?" he asked, as if realizing something. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine." I walked over, facing him squarely. His expression turned angry. "So, you planned this malfunction on purpose? Trying to harm Anya? How could you be so cruel?" he shouted, gripping my cheeks with such force it felt like my cheekbones would break.

"Yes, I orchestrated it," I admitted, wanting to see how far he'd go for Anya. His jaw tightened with anger. "Why, Maya? Anya just beat cancer; she's finally happy. Why ruin that? I'll tell you this: if anything happens to her, I won't let you off the hook."

The irony was stinging. My husband threatening me for another woman. The sight of my smile only made him angrier, his grip becoming even harsher. "Maya Fisher! You're venomous, heartless; marrying you was a mistake."

As I was about to retort that I regretted it too, the doctor emerged. "The patient is out of danger," he announced.

I saw hope ignite in Kevin's eyes and felt completely drained, collapsing to the floor, my cheeks still aching. I realized that the man who once held me and whispered, "Maya, you'll be mine forever," was gone forever.