Chapter 1

Three years into their marriage, Milo Blake discovered the scorecard Eliana Hart had been keeping on him.

When he casually pulled that piece of paper from his study drawer, Eliana's heart practically stopped.

The entries read:

"On my birthday, he flew to Australia to see his ex. -5 points."

"Left me stranded on the FDR Drive to pick her up from JFK. -10 points."

"Lost his wedding ring making soup for his ex. -10 points..."

Line after line of deductions, with a note scrawled at the bottom:

"100 points = divorce."

But he didn't even look at it.

He barely glanced at the paper before casually handing it back to her. "I keep important stuff in here. Don't leave your things in my study anymore."

The bookshelves were perfectly organized with books Harper Lennox had given him back in college. Her old love letters sat locked in the glass cabinet. Even the photo frame on his desk showed their high school graduation picture.

This was his idea of "important stuff."

He treasured it all, looking at those things every single day.

Her belongings? He wouldn't give them a second glance.

So he had no clue she was about to leave him.

Eliana gripped the scorecard and nodded, about to walk out when Milo's phone buzzed. It was Jake calling.

"Milo, we've got a serious problem! There's a massive fire at the Carnegie Hill mansion. Isn't Harper staying there?"

His face went white instantly. He grabbed his keys and bolted.

Eliana stared at the door he'd just disappeared through, frozen for a moment, then flagged down a cab.

He tore through Manhattan like a man possessed, running every red light from the Upper East Side to Carnegie Hill. The taxi driver almost lost him twice on the Queensboro Bridge.

When they reached the scene, the flames were massive—black smoke billowing into the sky. Even Eliana was stunned by the intensity.

When they told him Harper was still inside, Milo tried to charge straight into the inferno.

The firefighters along with Jake and his other buddy Ryan had to physically hold him back. "Sir, you can't go in there! The fire's too intense—you'll get yourself killed!"

"Milo, think about this!" Jake shouted. "You're up for VP of Flight Operations! The board meeting's next week—you can't throw away everything you've worked for!"

Ryan grabbed his shoulder. "Dude, you've been Chief Pilot for three years. This promotion to VP would make you the youngest in Delta's history. Don't blow it!"

He wasn't hearing any of it. He shoved past them with one final statement:

"I don't give a damn about the promotion. As long as Harper's okay, they can keep their VP position."

Watching him disappear into the smoke, his friends just stood there, shaking their heads.

"I told you guys not to call him!" Jake ran his hands through his hair. "Every time something happens to Harper, he completely loses it!"

"What were we supposed to do?" Ryan shot back. "If Harper got hurt and we didn't tell him, he'd tear this whole city apart. Remember sophomore year when that TA was harassing her? He stormed into the guy's office at Olin Hall and beat the hell out of him. And when she went MIA for ten hours last year, he had his security team searching from Brooklyn to the Bronx..."

Listening to them, Eliana finally got it. The man who was always so cold and distant with her? He could completely fall apart when he loved someone.

Her chest tightened with a sharp, bitter pain.

Jake and Ryan noticed her standing there and looked uncomfortable.

"Oh, hey Eliana... you came with Milo? He's just helping out an old friend from Cornell. Don't read too much into it."

"Yeah, totally!" Ryan added awkwardly. "He and Harper go way back—like brother and sister, you know? That's why he's so worried."

Eliana knew they were trying to cover for him. She forced a smile, tasting blood where she'd bitten her lip without realizing it.

Thirty minutes later, Milo emerged carrying an unconscious Harper. Everyone rushed toward them.

His face was covered in soot, his white shirt burned and torn, but Harper didn't have a scratch on her.

When the paramedics took Harper from him, Milo finally collapsed.

The ambulance raced down Fifth Avenue to Mount Sinai. Eliana sat in the waiting room, staring at her shaking hands, remembering the first time she'd met Milo.

She was a sophomore. Her father was Professor Andrew Hart at Cornell's Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering department, and Milo was his star student. In his crisp uniform, confident and charismatic, even the sunlight seemed drawn to him when he demonstrated flight principles in Upson Hall.

She fell for him instantly and followed him around campus like a lost puppy.

Plenty of girls chased him, but he kept his distance from everyone.

Until right before graduation, when Eliana's father got sick. On his deathbed at NewYork-Presbyterian, he asked Milo to look after his only daughter.

Milo said yes.

After the funeral, he proposed to her.

She asked him, "Are you only doing this because of my dad? You really don't have to..."

He looked at her and said, "No. I want to marry you."

Eliana thought she'd finally won his heart.

Until one night when he got drunk at some bar in Midtown and she went to pick him up, overhearing Jake and Ryan talking.

"Poor Eliana's so clueless," Jake had said. "She thinks Milo actually loves her, treats him like he's everything, but he only married her to get over the pain of his ex getting married to someone else."

That moment felt like falling through ice.

All these years, he hadn't been rejecting other women because he was naturally cold. His heart was already taken by someone who'd walked away.

He was like some stubborn guardian, protecting a relationship that had died years ago.

Too proud to beg for her back, too hurt to admit he missed her.

So he just waited, hoping she'd come around.

Instead, he got news of her wedding.

Harper Lennox—that name carved into his soul, along with all those years of restraint and waiting—became a constant ache in Eliana's chest.

But she loved Milo too much to let go.

So she made the scorecard in secret, planning to leave once she hit 100 points.

Over the years, she'd deduct points here and there.

Sometimes it was her birthday, but he'd fly off to see Harper because of some Instagram post.

Sometimes it was their anniversary, but he'd spend the whole night texting Harper instead.

And after Harper's divorce and move back to New York...

The deductions came faster and faster.

Eliana's heart was slowly freezing over.

After surgery, the doctor came out with an update on Milo's condition.

"Your husband has multiple burns on his arms, shoulders, neck, and back from the rescue. There will be scarring, but the woman he saved is fine—just unconscious from shock. Nothing to worry about there."

Jake and Ryan exchanged looks, trying to play damage control.

"Well, at least everyone's okay," Jake said carefully. "Don't stress about it, Eliana. Even if he can't fly anymore, it's not the end of the world. The Blake family's been wanting him to come back and run the business anyway. Should we go see him?"

Eliana looked down, hiding the pain in her eyes.

"I've got some things to handle. You guys go ahead."

She took a cab back to their apartment on the Upper East Side and picked up the scorecard.

After deducting another 5 points, she stared at what was left and smiled bitterly.

Just 20 more points, and she and Milo would be done for good.

Chapter 2

Eliana made a stop at the law firm first.

She had the lawyer draft divorce papers before heading back to the hospital with the soup she'd brought.

As she approached the hospital room door, she saw Harper frantically trying to take care of Milo.

Harper was attempting to serve him a bowl of soup but accidentally spilled it on him. She apologized while trying to clean it up, only to accidentally tear at his bandages. When she tried to tend to his wounds, she grabbed the wrong medication...

Seeing him wince in pain, Harper's eyes immediately welled up.

"Milo, I'm so sorry. I know you got hurt this badly because you ran into that fire for me. I just want to take care of you,but I'm screwing everything up. I'm sorry."

A flicker of helplessness crossed Milo's usually distant eyes. "You've been spoiled your whole life—you've never had to deal with stuff like this. It's totally normal that you don't know how to take care of someone. I'm just a little banged up. I'll be fine in a few days. Don't worry about it, and don't beat yourself up."

His words only made Harper cry harder.

"Stop lying to me! What do you mean 'a little banged up'? The doctor told me you have severe burns and you'll never be able to fly again. That's true, isn't it?"

Seeing her tears, Milo's expression grew complicated.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but as he reached out, he realized that wasn't appropriate anymore.

Instead, he grabbed some tissues from the bedside table. "Actually, I already submitted my resignation to Delta. I was planning to quit this month anyway, so whether I can keep flying doesn't really matter. This whole thing isn't your fault. Please don't cry."

Harper stared at him in shock, tears still streaming down her face.

"You're quitting Delta? Why? Didn't you always say flying was your dream?"

Milo was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice carried something she couldn't quite identify.

"Being a pilot was never my dream. It's because when you were eight, you said that captain looked so cool and that you wanted to marry a pilot someday so he could take you around the world himself. I thought you'd remember."

"Milo!"

Harper hadn't expected this at all. She couldn't hold back anymore and threw herself into his arms.

Milo froze. The hands that had reached out and pulled back finally wrapped around her.

Watching this scene, Eliana felt like someone had just stabbed her in the chest—raw, excruciating pain.

She clenched her fists until her knuckles went white, biting her lip until she tasted blood.

Fighting to swallow all that agony, she quietly set her things by the door and walked away.

Just as she reached the hospital lobby, she ran into several of Milo's Delta colleagues.

They were coming to visit. After some small talk, they asked about his condition.

Eliana briefly filled them in and gave them his room number.

The crew was about to head upstairs when Captain Martinez got an emergency call and had to gather everyone back.

"Hey Eliana," First Officer Chen said, handing her some papers and a fruit basket. "We've got to get back to JFK for an emergency flight. Could you give our best to Captain Blake? Oh, and this is his resignation letter—management already signed off on it. Mind passing it along?"

After they left, Eliana looked at Milo's resignation letter. His reason was simple:

"I've been flying the New York-Sydney route for Delta for three years. Every time I land in Australia, I feel this overwhelming sense of loss. When I'm up in the clouds, there's this feeling of being untethered, like I've lost my way completely. Recently, hearing about an old friend made me realize that maybe what I've been chasing isn't the sky at all, but someone. Now that she's back, I've found my direction again, and I just want to come back down to earth."

Eliana had always thought Milo's passion was for the endless sky and the freedom of flight.

She never imagined his true north had always been Harper Lennox.

He became a pilot to impress her, became a captain so he could fly to Australia whenever she needed him, and now he was quitting Delta because she'd come home.

Meanwhile, Eliana had just been going through the motions as his wife, never once touching his heart.

She closed her eyes, remembering that day five years ago when Milo spoke at the Cornell career fair—confident and passionate, talking about aviation with such fire in his eyes.

That was when she fell for him, and apparently when he was working toward getting closer to Harper.

How pathetic. How completely ridiculous.

Now his person had come back, and it was time for her to get out of the way.

Back home, Eliana called Darcy, her former Fashion Institute classmate who'd been trying to get her to start a fashion line together.

After graduation, since Milo was always flying routes for Delta, she'd put her design career on hold to be a supportive wife.

Now that she'd decided to leave, it was time to chase her dreams again.

Darcy's excitement was obvious even over the phone.

"Eliana! Oh my God, finally! Remember how Professor Williams always said you had the best eye for fashion trends in our entire class? Everyone in the industry has been wondering when you'd make your comeback. I'm flying in from LA tomorrow to talk contracts. Let's set up the studio in Manhattan—I know you're married, so staying in New York makes sense for your family situation."

Chapter 3

"No need for that. You're working in LA now, so let's set up the studio there. I'm about to get divorced, so just give me some time to handle things here and I'll come find you."

Eliana's voice was calm as she mentioned the divorce. Darcy seemed shocked and went quiet for a long moment.

Out of politeness, Darcy didn't pry and agreed to her plan.

After hanging up, Eliana ordered tons of fashion books and magazines, then dug out her old design school materials.

She didn't go to the hospital or contact Milo. Instead, she stayed home studying, trying to brush up on her rusty skills.

Once she threw herself into the work, she slowly found her old self again.

The version of herself who wouldn't get trapped by romance, who lived and breathed fashion, who dreamed of becoming a world-class designer.

Days passed, and on their wedding anniversary, Milo came home.

Seeing the sketches scattered all over the table, he looked at her with surprise.

"You've been home designing this whole time?"

Eliana's pen paused for a moment. She nodded calmly.

"I'm planning to get back into fashion design. I need to find my groove again, so I haven't had time to take care of you."

Hearing her explanation, something flickered in Milo's eyes.

Before, when he'd gotten slightly injured from turbulence during a flight, Eliana had camped out in his hospital room for three straight days after hearing the news, crying until her eyes were puffy.

This time he was hurt way worse, but she hadn't even asked about it or seemed to care.

Milo found it weird, but he'd never been one to interfere with her life, so he didn't push it.

"That's great. Go chase your dreams. Your dad would be so proud to know you're getting back into design."

"You'd support any decision I make? Even... divorce?"

The words slipped out before she could stop them, but Milo's phone buzzed at that exact moment.

He answered and headed into his study, apparently not catching what she'd said.

Before the door closed, she heard Harper's voice faintly through the phone. Eliana smiled bitterly to herself.

She let out a breath and dove back into her designs, completely losing track of time.

That evening, Milo came out of his study and casually said, "I made dinner reservations. Wanna grab some food?"

After sitting all day, Eliana was actually pretty hungry, so she agreed.

After dropping her off near the restaurant, Milo went to find parking.

When he came back, he had a designer box in one hand and a bouquet of pink roses in the other.

He walked up to her and handed her the flowers. For a moment, Eliana was completely stunned.

In three years of marriage, this was the first time he'd given her flowers. Her emotions were all over the place.

She wanted to ask why he was suddenly giving her roses, what was in the box, if they were celebrating their anniversary.

The words were right there when she spotted a familiar figure.

Harper was standing outside Lumière, a trendy new French bistro, beaming as she walked toward them.

"Milo, over here! What took you so long? You must be his wife. Hi there! I'm Harper Lennox, an old friend of Milo's."

She greeted them like it was the most natural thing in the world, even extending her hand.

Eliana's expression froze for a few seconds before she recovered. She reached out to shake Harper's hand.

"Hi, I'm Eliana."

After the introductions, Milo handed over the gift box with a casual expression.

"It's Lumière's opening night. Couldn't show up empty-handed. Brought you a little something and some flowers—that's why I'm running late."

Hearing his words, Eliana looked down at the gorgeous pink roses in her hands.

So the gift and flowers were both for Harper?

Eliana's chest felt like it was caving in as bitterness flooded through her.

With shaking hands, she passed the flowers over, trying to act like everything was fine.

Harper took the gift and opened the box. When she saw the Hermès bag inside, her face lit up.

"Oh my God, how did you know I've been trying to get my hands on this bag? There are only ten of these worldwide! You really shouldn't have spent this much. And these flowers are absolutely beautiful. I can't believe after all these years, you still remember I only like the pink roses from that little shop on the Upper East Side."

Milo shrugged it off, saying he'd just grabbed the bag randomly and the flowers were convenient.

But Eliana knew better. There were no coincidences like that in real life.

Everything had been carefully planned by him.

And his suggestion to take her out to dinner? Just an excuse to see Harper.

From start to finish, Eliana had been nothing more than a cover story.