Dr. Carter rushed through the sliding doors of the airport, her heart pounding. She had been called for an emergency case in Santa Monica, and every minute mattered. She almost sighed with relief when she saw the ticket counter had only a short line.
When it was finally her turn, fate played a cruel trick—her purse slipped from her shoulder, scattering everything across the floor: wallet, phone, stethoscope, even a packet of tissues. She bent down quickly, scrambling to gather her things.
At that exact moment, a couple approached the counter.
“I need two tickets to Santa Monica, please,” Michael said, his voice brisk and impatient.
Luke, the man at the counter, frowned slightly. “We only have two seats left,” he admitted, glancing nervously at Dr. Carter still on the floor.
“I need to get on this flight, please. It’s an emergency—I’m a doctor,” Dr. Carter said desperately, still clutching at her scattered belongings.
Michael barely glanced at her. “The tickets are clearly ours,” he snapped, slapping his credit card onto the counter.
Dana, his girlfriend, bit her lip and looked at Dr. Carter with sympathy. “Maybe we should wait, honey? She seems—”
Michael cut her off. “We’re not changing our plans,” he said firmly.
Dr. Carter rose, her eyes pleading. “Please, it’s about saving a life!”
Michael turned toward her coldly. “Life’s tough. We all have our problems,” he said without an ounce of compassion. Then to Luke, he barked, “Finish the booking.”
Luke hesitated, but Michael’s stern stare left him no choice. He printed the tickets.
As Michael snatched them with a smug smile, Dr. Carter’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She whispered to Dana, “Thank you… for at least understanding.”
Once they left, Dr. Carter leaned toward Luke. “Is there any other flight to Santa Monica?”
Luke’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “There is… hold on… oh no. I’m so sorry, doctor. Someone just booked the last ticket. But I can put you on the standby list,” he offered gently.
She forced a nod, though her heart sank. Time was slipping away.
Meanwhile, Michael and Dana walked toward their gate. Dana’s steps were heavy, her mind stuck on the doctor’s desperate face.
“How can you be so indifferent, Michael?” she asked.
He didn’t even look at her. “We can’t fix everyone’s problems, Dana. We have our plans. That’s life.”
She shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder if you ever think about anyone but yourself.”
Just then, they bumped into another couple. Michael immediately snapped, “Watch where you’re going!”
The couple apologized, hurrying away. Dana sighed, her heart sinking deeper.
Onboard the plane, Dana noticed a flickering light above them. Her chest tightened. “Did you hear that? That strange whirring noise?”
Michael flipped through his magazine lazily. “Relax. Planes make noises all the time.”
“Our seats are in row 13,” Dana whispered nervously. “And with the way you’ve been acting… I don’t know. Karma has a way of catching up.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Michael rolled his eyes.
But right then, the plane jolted violently. Passengers screamed as a heavy suitcase tumbled from the overhead bin—missing Michael’s head by inches.
“Whoa! That was close!” Michael laughed.
Dana’s eyes widened. “You think this is funny? That bag could’ve killed you!”
The captain’s voice crackled over the speaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seatbelts. We’re experiencing turbulence.”
After a tense stretch of shaking and fear, the plane finally steadied. Michael flagged a flight attendant.
“Excuse me,” he said smugly, “a suitcase almost crushed me. I think complimentary drinks are in order.”
The flight attendant forced a polite smile. “Of course, sir.”
Moments later, she returned with two martinis. Michael raised his glass. “To surviving the wild ride!” He drank his in one gulp, then grabbed Dana’s untouched glass.
But as he swallowed, his eyes bulged. His hands shot to his throat—he was choking. The olive from the martini had lodged in his airway.
Dana jumped up, panic flashing in her eyes. “Hold still, Michael!” She wrapped her arms around his waist and thrust upward. Passengers gasped as she tried again and again—until finally the olive shot out, bouncing off the seat ahead.
Michael coughed, catching his breath. “I’m fine,” he croaked, brushing it off. “Just no more olives.”
Dana scolded him. “Michael, you need to be careful—with your heart condition especially!”
He smirked. “Takes more than an olive to bring me down.”
But Dana wasn’t laughing.
A few minutes later, a burning smell spread through the cabin. Dana’s voice trembled. “Michael, do you smell that?”
“Yeah, smells like something’s burning,” he replied casually.
“On a plane? That’s serious!” she cried.
Smoke curled out from a small compartment. A flight attendant rushed to douse the fire, but Michael grabbed the extinguisher. “Let me handle this.” He sprayed until the fire went out. Passengers clapped.
Michael puffed his chest. “See? All under control.”
Dana muttered, “Why do you always have to show off?”
He ignored her.
Later, Dana finally confessed about a job offer in another city.
“A different city? Why didn’t you tell me?” Michael demanded.
“I didn’t know how, Michael. And after today… maybe it’s a sign we’re not on the same path.”
“You can’t just leave everything—me included!”
“It’s my career. I’ve always supported you, but you never support me.”
Michael’s voice hardened. “If you take that job, we’re done.”
Her voice shook. “Maybe what we’ve built isn’t strong if it can’t handle change.”
The rest of the flight was silent.
As the plane descended, Dana whispered, “Michael, your behavior today showed me something. I need someone who—”
“So you’re breaking up with me?” he cut her off.
She exhaled heavily. “Yes. I can’t do this anymore.”
Michael’s face twisted. Suddenly, he clutched his chest, groaning. “Dana… my heart…”
She gasped. “Michael!”
But then he laughed. “Got you! You think I’d have a heart attack over this?”
“That’s not funny, Michael!” she shouted, storming down the aisle.
But seconds later, Michael staggered. This time the pain was real. His face drained of color, and he collapsed to the floor.
“Help! Someone help!” Dana screamed.
A passenger rushed forward. “I’m a nurse—he’s in tachycardia!”
As the plane landed, paramedics rushed Michael to the hospital.
Michael drifted in and out of consciousness, the world a blur of sterile lights and urgent voices.
“BP’s dropping!” someone shouted.
“Where’s Dr. Carter?” a doctor asked urgently.
Michael’s sluggish mind caught the name. Dr. Carter—the woman he had denied at the counter.
“She couldn’t make her flight,” another replied.
“We’re losing him,” the doctor said gravely.
Michael’s body went cold. His last thought before darkness was regret—regret for Dana, regret for the doctor, regret for every selfish choice.
Hours later, Michael opened his eyes weakly. Dana sat beside him, her hand on his.
“You had a heart attack,” she whispered. “Dr. Carter saved you.”
His eyes widened. “Dr. Carter? The… doctor from the airport?”
At that moment, the door opened, and Dr. Carter walked in.
“You… you’re the one,” Michael said, shame flooding his voice.
“Yes,” she nodded calmly. “I got here on a charter flight. Lucky for both my patient and you.”
Michael’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I was cruel to you… and you still saved me. Thank you.”
“Take care of yourself,” she told him softly. “Life just gave you a second chance. Don’t waste it.”
When she left, Michael turned to Dana, his voice trembling. “I’ve been a fool. I hurt you. I was selfish.” Tears streamed down his face. “If you still want that job… take it. I’ll support you. I want you happy—even if we’re apart.”
Dana’s eyes widened. For the first time, she saw sincerity in him. “Michael… are you sure?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “You deserve it.”
She squeezed his hand, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Then maybe there’s still hope for us.”
Michael nodded weakly, finally understanding what it meant to care for someone other than himself.