Knox sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy. I’m not even saying it won’t scare the hell out of you.” He nods toward the airstrip. “But you’re already in this, Amelia. Whether or not you admit it.”
I swallow hard, my throat tight.
I want to argue. To tell him he is wrong. But deep down, I know he isn’t.
Because the second he put me in that lineup, the second he put Ash in front of me, something shifted.
I’m not just flying anymore.
I am falling. And the last time that happened, I ended up broken and running away.
And that scares me more than anything else ever has.
Two years ago…
I had dreamed about this moment for weeks—coming home early, surprising Preston, watching his face light up when he saw me standing in the doorway.
I had imagined the way he’d wrap me up in his arms, lifting me off the ground like he always did, murmuring how much he missed me, how proud he was.
I never imagined this.
The second I stepped inside our apartment, something felt off. The air hung heavy and still. Trouble was all the silence implied.
I dropped my duffel by the door, my boots barely making a sound as I moved down the hall. His bedroom door was openjust a crack, enough for me to hear the soft, breathy moans that sent ice through my veins.
No.
My heart pounded, but my body moved before my brain could catch up. I pushed the door open.
And there he was.
Preston. The man I had loved for years. The man I had planned a life with.
Between another woman’s legs.
The world went still, my breath locking in my throat as the scene in front of me burned itself into my memory—his bare back, the way he turned at the sound of the door, his face shifting from pleasure to shock to panic.
“Amelia—”
The sound of my name on his lips snapped something inside me. My fingers trembled as I reached into my pocket, curling around the engagement ring I had carried with me through every deployment, every mission, every lonely night.
The ring he had given me with promises of forever.
Without thinking, I ripped it from my pocket and threw it at him.
The small metallic clink as it hit his chest and landed on the bed was deafening.
My voice trembled with rage as I whispered, “I trusted you. I fought for you. I chose you every damn day.”
Preston scrambled, trying to grab for me, but I stepped back, my body already turning.
“Amelia, wait?—”
I didn’t.
I walked out. Out of that room, out of that apartment, out of the life I thought I had with him.
And I never looked back.
