Dr. Carter rushed through the sliding glass doors of the airport, her heart pounding. She clutched her purse tightly, her mind racing with only one thought: I have to get there in time. A patient’s life depended on her making it to Santa Monica as soon as possible.
To her relief, the line at the ticket counter was short. She exhaled, hope flooding her chest. But just as her turn came, disaster struck. Her purse slipped from her trembling hands, spilling everything — wallet, ID, keys, pens — across the floor.
Flustered, she bent to gather her things. At that exact moment, a sharply dressed man and his girlfriend stepped up to the counter.
“I need two tickets to Santa Monica, please,” the man, Michael, said firmly.
The airline worker, Luke, glanced nervously at Dr. Carter scrambling on the floor, then back at Michael. “We only have two seats left,” he said carefully.
Dr. Carter’s head shot up, panic in her eyes. “Wait, please! I need one of those tickets. It’s an emergency. I’m a doctor,” she said quickly, still clutching at scattered items.
Dana, Michael’s girlfriend, hesitated. “Maybe we should let her go first, honey?” she whispered.
But Michael’s face hardened. “The tickets are clearly ours,” he snapped, already pulling out his credit card. “We’re not changing our plans.”
Dr. Carter stood, desperation in her voice. “Please, I’m begging you. It’s about saving a life.”
Michael turned cold eyes on her. “Life’s tough. We all have our problems,” he said cruelly. Then, to Luke: “Finish the booking.”
Luke hesitated, but Michael’s glare made him continue. He printed out the boarding passes.
Michael grabbed them triumphantly, while Dr. Carter’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Dana gave her a sympathetic glance, but followed Michael.
Dr. Carter leaned over the counter, her voice trembling. “Is there any other flight to Santa Monica?”
Luke typed furiously, then sighed. “There was… but I’m sorry, Doctor. The last seat was just booked. I can put you on standby.”
She nodded weakly, whispering, “Thank you.”
Meanwhile, Michael and Dana walked to their gate. Dana’s guilt weighed heavily. “How can you be so indifferent, Michael?” she asked softly.
“We can’t fix everyone’s problems, Dana,” he said without looking up from his phone. “We have our own plans, and we stick to them. That’s life.”
“Sometimes, I wonder if you ever think about anyone but yourself,” she replied sharply.
Michael scoffed, bumping into another couple in the terminal. “Watch where you’re going!” he barked.
The couple stammered apologies, but Dana’s heart sank further.
Onboard the plane, Dana’s unease grew. A flickering overhead light caught her eye, and a strange whirring noise hummed from the engine. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.
“It’s just normal plane sounds. Relax,” Michael muttered, flipping a page of his magazine.
Dana’s eyes darted nervously. “We’re in row thirteen. And after the way you acted… I feel like karma might catch up to us.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Michael rolled his eyes.
The words had barely left his mouth when the plane shuddered violently. Passengers screamed. A heavy suitcase crashed from the overhead compartment, narrowly missing Michael’s head.
“Whoa! That was close,” Michael laughed.
“Close? That bag almost killed you!” Dana shouted, gripping her armrest.
The captain’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seatbelts. We are experiencing turbulence.”
The plane rocked for endless minutes before finally leveling out. Relief swept through the cabin.
But Michael, unshaken, called over a flight attendant. “Excuse me, a suitcase nearly took my head off. I think complimentary drinks are in order.”
“Of course, sir,” she said with a strained smile.
Dana glared. “You’re asking for free drinks now?”
Soon, the attendant returned with two martinis. Michael raised his glass. “To surviving the wild ride,” he said smugly, downing his in one gulp. When Dana refused hers, he shrugged and drank that too.
Suddenly, his face turned red. He clawed at his throat, gasping. The olive had lodged in his windpipe.
“Michael!” Dana cried, springing into action. She wrapped her arms around his waist, performing the Heimlich maneuver. On the third thrust, the olive shot from his mouth, bouncing off the seat in front.
Gasps and claps filled the cabin. Dana panted, “Are you okay?”
Michael coughed, waving her off. “Yeah, yeah. Just… no olives next time.”
“Michael, you need to be careful, especially with your heart condition.”
He smirked. “Takes more than an olive to bring me down.”
But Dana’s fear lingered.
Moments later, a sharp smell filled the air. Dana sniffed. “Something’s burning!”
Michael shrugged. “Relax. Probably nothing.”
But then smoke curled from a compartment. A flight attendant rushed with an extinguisher, struggling. Dana pulled Michael’s arm. “Help her!”
He hesitated, then grabbed the extinguisher. With a spray of foam, the fire was out. Passengers clapped. Michael puffed out his chest. “See? All under control.”
Dana whispered, “Why do you always have to show off?”
He ignored her.
Hours later, as the plane neared its destination, Dana turned to him. “Michael, I have to tell you something. I got a job offer… in another city.”
Michael froze. “Another city? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know how,” she admitted. “After today… maybe it’s a sign. Michael, this is a huge opportunity for me.”
“You can’t leave everything here. Especially me.”
“It’s my career. I’ve always supported you. Why can’t you support me?”
“Because you’re choosing a job over us!” Michael snapped.
Dana’s voice shook. “Maybe what we have isn’t strong if it can’t handle change.”
His eyes narrowed. “If you take that job, we’re done.”
Silence thickened between them until landing. Then Dana broke it. “Michael… your behavior today showed me something. I need someone who truly understands me.”
“You’re breaking up with me?” he demanded.
She sighed. “Yes. I can’t do this anymore.”
Michael’s face twisted in anger—then suddenly in pain. He clutched his chest. “Dana… my heart…”
Her eyes widened. “Michael!”
But he straightened suddenly, grinning. “Got you. You thought I was serious?”
“That’s not funny!” she screamed, storming down the aisle.
But as she walked away, Michael staggered. This time the pain was real. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor.
“Help!” Dana screamed, rushing back.
A passenger pushed forward. “I’m a nurse. He’s in tachycardia!”
When the plane landed, paramedics rushed Michael to the hospital. Dana clutched his hand as he was wheeled inside, terrified.
Doctors shouted numbers. “BP’s dropping!”
Another voice asked urgently, “Where’s Dr. Carter?”
Michael’s fading mind stirred at the name. Dr. Carter… the doctor from the airport.
“She didn’t make the flight,” someone answered grimly.
Michael’s heart pounded with regret. I stopped her. I ruined everything.
Hours later, he awoke in a dim hospital room. Dana sat by his side, eyes red from crying.
“You had a heart attack. Dr. Carter saved you,” she whispered.
His eyes widened. “Dr. Carter… she’s here?”
The door opened. Dr. Carter entered, calm and steady. Michael stared. “You… you’re the one from the airport.”
“Yes. I caught a charter flight. Lucky for both my patient—and you.”
Tears welled in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I was selfish. Thank you for saving me.”
Dr. Carter smiled softly. “Take better care of yourself. This is your second chance.”
When she left, Michael turned to Dana, tears streaming. “I’ve been such a fool. If you still want that job, take it. I’ll support you. I want you to be happy, even if it means we’re apart.”
Dana squeezed his hand, surprised by his sincerity. “Michael… maybe we can heal. Together.”
And in that quiet hospital room, for the first time, Michael understood what it meant to change.
