He Promised Me Every Flight, Gave Her Every One Chapter 10

He Promised Me Every Flight, Gave Her Every One Chapter 10

On the wedding day, the Sterlings didn’t cancel the reception.

Emily probably thought I’d cave once the guests arrived and show up to avoid a public scene.

But at nine that morning, the digital marquee outside the hotel suddenly changed.

[The Wedding of Grant Sterling and Eleanor Miller] Became [Global Airlines Partnership Reception]

Julian had arranged it with the hotel in advance.

The Sterlings refused to cancel the venue.

So it became a reception without a bride.

Emily was so furious that she smashed a glass in the private suite.

Blake called and cursed at me. “Eleanor, you’re ruthless! You upset my mother so badly that her blood pressure shot up!”

I was collecting the restored pearl headpiece from the old workshop.

The pearls had been restrung.

Fine gold wire reinforced the broken section.

The master restorer said, “The scar is on the back. No one will notice unless they look closely.”

I studied the thin gold line. “Don’t hide it.”

It deserved to be remembered.

News from the hotel arrived soon after.

Lydia had shown up in the wedding gown.

She didn’t walk down the aisle.

Instead, she cried before the guests and claimed she’d only come to help salvage the event.

Someone recorded it and posted the video.

Emily held Lydia’s hand and kept saying, “Sweet girl, you’ve been put through so much.”

Grant stood beside them, his expression grim.

The guests whispered among themselves.

“His fiancée didn’t show, so his childhood sweetheart wore the gown to save the day?”

“I heard Captain Sterling took Ms. Vance on a seven-day transatlantic trip before the wedding.”

“Then I don’t blame the bride for staying away.”

The Sterlings’ polished image finally cracked.

That afternoon, an anonymous post appeared on Global Airlines’ internal employee forum.

The title was brief.

[Captain Hides Fiancée’s Documents Before Wedding and Takes Female Passenger on Seven-Day Transatlantic Trip. Did He Cross Professional Boundaries?]

The post contained no exaggeration.

It included a timeline, Instagram screenshots, passport wallet photos, flight records, and the hotel rehearsal video.

I hadn’t posted it.

Sophie had.

She used only public information and evidence I’d authorized.

Global Airlines summoned Grant for a meeting that same day.

As a captain, he hadn’t compromised flight safety.

But the internal complaint, professional image concerns, and passenger boundary issues were enough to pull him from the schedule pending investigation.

By evening, Grant showed up at the old restoration workshop.

I’d just placed the headpiece inside its box.

He pushed open the door, reeking of alcohol.

His uniform jacket hung over one arm.

His shirt collar was open.

Grant saw the restored headpiece, and his gaze jolted. “They fixed it?”

I closed the box. “Yes.”

A bitter, ugly smile crossed his face.

“Ellie, today was our wedding. I waited for you the whole time.”

Wind chimes sounded beyond the wooden window.

I said nothing.

He stepped closer, then stopped. “I didn’t ask Lydia to wear the gown.
My mother arranged it. Later, I told her to change, but she refused.”

“She said she couldn’t let the Sterlings be humiliated.”

“It has nothing to do with me.”

Grant’s eyes turned red. “How can it have nothing to do with you?
Today was supposed to be our wedding.”

“Not anymore.”

Those two words seemed to pierce straight through him.

His chest rose and fell sharply. “Eleanor, I know I was wrong. I was an asshole for taking your documents.”

“That day, I thought you were using the flight to pressure me. I thought you’d go home once you couldn’t get through security.”

“I never thought you’d actually wait outside.”

His voice grew rougher. “After I landed, I saw a photo of the breakfast you’d made for me. That was when I learned you’d been at the airport since three.”

I looked up. “How did you know?”

Grant froze.

His throat bobbed.

His gaze slipped away for a second.

Suddenly, I understood.

An airport cleaner had sent the lost-and-found office a photo of my spilled breakfast bag.

My name and phone number were written on them.

Grant had known all along.

Yet his first call had been about the ring.

Not whether I was cold.

Not whether I had my documents.

Not why I’d missed the flight.

I picked up the headpiece box. “Grant, you didn’t just find out. You knew back then. You simply didn’t care.”

He reached back and gripped the edge of the table.

The master restorer stepped out from the back room.

He stopped when he saw us.

Grant’s voice came out hoarse. “Give me one more chance.”

I walked around him. “There isn’t one.”

He spun around, his voice trembling. “Eleanor, I can cut Lydia off for good.”

At last, he said it.

When I’d needed those words most, he’d never once offered them.

Now, they were meaningless.

Julian’s car waited outside.

I walked down the steps.

Grant stumbled after me.

He nearly slipped on the rain-slick stone path.

Julian got out and opened the car door for me.

Grant rushed forward and grabbed its edge. “Are you leaving with him?”

I slid into the car.

“Yes.”

His knuckles slowly turned white.

The car door swung shut beside his hand.