The Lost Flight

At the annual medical gala, Austin, a prominent celebrity surgeon, was asked a poignant question about his years of saving lives: was there anyone he regretted failing to save?

He shook his head, then slowly nodded.

None on the operating table, he said, his voice dropping. But indirectly? I took a life.

The crowd fell silent as he continued, "Five years ago, my college roommate got a full-ride scholarship to study in London. He asked me to look after his girlfriend while he was away. The problem was, the moment I saw her, I fell helplessly in love."

"She rejected me at every turn. In a fit of jealousy, I Photoshopped a highly intimate picture of her and me. I showed it to him, lying through my teeth that she had slept with me for my money."

A collective gasp rippled through the auditorium. Someone in the crowd called out, "What happened next?"

Austins eyes welled with tears. "He believed me. He broke up with her right then and there. She boarded the very next flight to go find him and explain. That plane crashed into the ocean. She died."

The day that interview clip went viral on social media, the roommate he spoke of, Jude, was boarding a flight with his fiance, Peyton.

They were flying home to get married.

In the quiet cabin of the flight back home, Jude gently pulled a wool blanket over Peytons legs.

She smiled, offering a playful, slightly teasing pout. "So attentive, babe. Did you use to tuck your ex in on flights like this too?"

Jude caught her nose in a brief, affectionate pinch, his expression softening with amusement. "Never."

"Back when I was with her, we were so broke we had to split a single five-dollar takeout box. We had to watch the timer on rental bikes just to save a buck. Flying was a luxury we couldn't even dream of."

His smile faded, replaced by a cold, bitter edge. "Maybe if Id had the money to buy her a plane ticket back then, she wouldn't have sold me out."

Judes resentment ran deep, deeper even than mine, and I was the ghost who had been trailing silently behind him for five long years.

He had every right to feel that way. His own family had been torn apart when his father walked out after an affair. Cheating was the one thing Jude loathed above all else.

Worse still, when Jude had received that graphic, intimate photo of me, he had been in the middle of a crucial university laboratory experiment. The sudden shock had shattered his focus. He had dropped a highly reactive chemical flask, triggering an explosion and fire that swept through the lab. A falling ceiling beam had crushed his leg, leaving him with a permanent limp and a million-dollar debt to the school.

If Peyton, his junior at the university, hadn't stayed by his side through his long rehabilitation and pulled him out of that dark abyss, Judes life would have been entirely ruined.

Ruined by that photo. Ruined by me.

His hatred was entirely justified. I didn't blame him.

Perhaps remembering those grim days, Peytons eyes grew misty with sympathy. "That gold-digging Ruby got exactly what she deserved. Karma always finds people like her."

Jude offered a quiet, reassuring smile, intertwining his fingers with hers. "Forget it. Karma or not, it's in the past. We go back a long way, after all. We should at least invite her to our wedding."

Peyton blinked in surprise, then nodded quickly. "Absolutely, we have to! When she sees that youre wealthier now than the rich kid who stole her away, shell be green with regret."

"Will she?" Jude murmured, his voice barely audible.

The flight attendants voice over the intercom drowned out whatever else he said, but for the rest of the journey, Jude seemed lighter, almost happy.

I knew what he was thinking. He wanted to see me drown in regret.

Back then, when he first woke up in the hospital after the fire, the very first thing he did was dial my number over and over, sending text after text to a phone that was already dead.

First, he demanded an explanation.

Then, his pride crumbled. He text me saying that if I came back, he would forgive the betrayal and pretend none of it ever happened. He begged me to give him time, promising he would eventually make more money than Austin ever could.

He waited from dawn until dusk, staring at a screen that never lit up.

When Jude and Peyton finally landed, the award ceremony video had already been trending online for twenty-four hours. Around the baggage claim, travelers were quietly debating the ethics of the scandal.

"I can't believe Dr. Austin was such a scumbag in college. That's honestly sick."

"It was probably just a stupid joke. He didn't mean for anyone to actually die."

"Honestly, the boyfriend is the real villain here. He dumped her over a single rumor. He probably met someone else in London and used Austin's lie as an easy exit."

Hearing Austins name floating through the crowded terminal, Jude froze.

Peyton looked at him, concerned. "Jude? Whats wrong?"

A look of pure disgust crossed Judes face, his knuckles turning white against the handle of his suitcase. "Nothing. Just heard a piece of trashs name. It makes me sick."

He was right. Austin was trash.

The very day Jude had left for London, Austin had cornered me to confess his feelings. When I rejected him, he started showering me with expensive gifts. I hadn't dared to tell Jude because I didn't want him to worry while he was half a world away, so I simply did my best to avoid Austin entirely.

I never expected my silence to drive Austin to such malice.

Staggering under the weight of those memories, I shook my head to clear the thoughts. By the time I focused again, I was floating behind Jude and Peyton as they entered their new apartment.

Jude had always been an incredibly attentive partner. When we were together, even on our cheap weekend trips, he would meticulously plan every detail to give me the best experience possible on a shoestring budget. He was no different with Peyton.

Before returning from London, he had hired a top-tier design team to renovate their new home, tailoring every corner to Peytons taste.

Soft beige walls, warm chestnut floors.

But when Peyton noticed the sheer pink curtains fluttering gently in the breeze, she raised an eyebrow with a playful grin. "Jude, you actually made a mistake! Since when do I like pink?"

Jude frowned, instinctively defending himself. "But you told me you wanted pink curtains..."

He cut himself off, his face suddenly draining of color. He gently pushed Peyton back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Sorry. I got it wrong. I'll have them replaced immediately."

It was as if the color itself disgusted him. Unable to wait for a decorator, Jude ripped the curtains from the rod with sudden, violent force and stuffed them into the trash chute in the hallway.

I drifted out after him, staring silently at the empty chute.

Ghosts have no tears, yet my eyes burned with a dry, heavy ache.

Years ago, when Jude and I were crammed into a windowless, five-hundred-square-foot basement studio, I used to curl up against his chest and whisper: "Jude, when we make it, were going to buy a place with massive windows, and well hang pink curtains to let the sunlight through."

He had remembered.

He bought the apartment with the beautiful windows, but because the girl beside him had changed, the pink curtains had to go.

I drifted back into the living room just as the two of them were grabbing their coats to head out.

"Jude, do you think Ruby will show up at the college reunion tonight?" Peyton asked.

My heart tightened. After leaving the country, Jude had cut all ties with our old classmates. He had no idea I was dead. But going to this reunion meant he would find out the truth.

Would he be sad?

Judes voice broke through my thoughts, cold and indifferent. "If she shows up, she shows up. Its the perfect chance to hand her our wedding invitation."

His face remained expressionless, but the pinky finger on his left hand was trembling.

He was lying.

Back in college, when he secretly sold blood to buy me a winter coat and lied about winning a student grant, his pinky had trembled exactly like this. He cared. He was terrified of seeing me, or perhaps, of not seeing me.

On the drive to the venue, Jude was unusually silent.

No matter how excitedly Peyton talked about showing off their relationship to me and Austin, Jude only offered distant, polite nods. His grip on the steering wheel grew tighter with every block.

At every red light, he checked the class group chat on his phone. As notifications rolled in from people arriving at the restaurant, his jaw clenched. In his distraction, his thumb brushed against my old, inactive profile picture.

For a second, both Jude and I seemed to hold our breath.

"Jude, the light is green," Peyton reminded him.

Jude jolted, tossing the phone into the cup holder as if it had burned him. "Right."

They arrived at the restaurant. The moment Jude parked, several of our old classmates waiting outside walked over to greet them.

"Jude! Man, it's been ages."

"Hey, I saw you active in the group chat earlier, tapping Ruby's icon. You've been off the grid for so long, do you seriously not know what happened to her..."

"It was an accident," Jude interrupted, his tone freezing the conversation. He reached over to open the passenger door. "Everyone, this is my fiance, Peyton."

The classmates exchanged uneasy glances, quickly shifting to polite small talk.

Strangely, even as the group began walking into the restaurant, Jude remained standing by his car, his eyes darting toward the street entrance.

"Jude, who are you looking for?" one of them asked.

I wondered too. Everyone from our old class was here, except for me and Austin. Was he waiting for Austin?

"No one," Jude snapped, turning on his heel and walking briskly toward the entrance.

Peyton blinked in confusion, quickly scrambling to catch up.

Though Jude had cut everyone off years ago, his academic success abroad was well-known. During dinner, classmates kept rising to toast him. Jude accepted every drink offered, and it didn't take long for the alcohol to flush his cheeks.

Peyton, looking worried, finally placed her hand over his glass. "Jude, that's enough drinking..."

Marcus, our old class president, was already tipsy. He laughed and raised his glass. "Come on, Peyton, play nice. When Ruby was with Jude, she never breathed down his neck about having a few drinks."

The private dining room went dead silent.

Marcus instantly regretted his words, biting his lip.

Jude, however, let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Of course Ruby wouldn't care. She never loved me anyway."

A sharp ache pierced through my chest, cold and biting.

I could accept his anger. I could accept his hatred. But I could not bear him denying the love I had given him.

"Jude, that's out of line!"

The voice belonged to Becca, my college roommate and closest friend. Her eyes were red as she looked at Jude, then glanced at Peyton, biting back her words. "She's not even..."

"Shes not here, so Im not allowed to talk?" Jude sneered, looking around the table. "If she didn't have a guilty conscience, why is every single person in this room here tonight except for her and Austin?"

Peyton added coldly, "People with guilty consciences usually stay hidden."

"Guilty conscience?" Becca slammed her glass onto the table, standing up as tears spilled over her cheeks. "Jude, Ruby has been dead for five years!"

Jude bolted upright, knocking his heavy chair backward with a loud, scraping crash. "What did you say?"

Becca, fueled by alcohol and years of suppressed anger, screamed back at him, "Who are you to judge her? If she wasn't so desperate to fly out and explain things to you, she would have never boarded that plane! She would still be alive!"

Jude stared at her, his entire body starting to tremble. "Explain what?"

Marcus reached out, gently pulling Becca back into her seat. "Jude... Ruby never cheated on you. That photo Austin had was fake. It was Photoshopped."

Hearing this, the tension in Judes shoulders suddenly broke, and he let out a bitter, mocking laugh. "Right. Keep making up stories."

He looked at Beccas tear-stained face with utter disdain. "I get that you guys were close, but fabricating a lie like this just to defend her? It's pathetic."

"She was blown to pieces for you, and you think I'm lying?" Becca cried.

"Shut up!" Jude roared, slamming his fist onto the table. "Tell Ruby she doesn't need to play dead. I'm not going to sue her or Austin. If she's really that scared of me, all she has to do is show up, apologize to my face, and we'll call it even."

Becca laughed, a sound hollow and hysterical. "You want a corpse to apologize to you, Jude?"

"Do you take me for a fool?" Judes eyes flared with savage anger. "I know a real photo when I see one."

Peyton chimed in, her voice tight. "When that picture was sent, I helped Jude run a digital analysis myself. There was absolutely no trace of editing."

A shadow of pain crossed Judes eyes, but he forced his jaw to set. "Tell Ruby that if she doesn't come here and apologize to me tonight, I'm not leaving this room."

Silence fell over the table.

Becca wiped her face, a cold, bitter smile forming on her lips. "An apology? Fine, Jude. Watch this, and tell me who needs to apologize."

Peytons face instantly lost all color.

Before she could stop her, Becca pressed play on her phone and turned the screen toward Jude.

It was the video of Austins interview.

"Five years ago, my roommate went abroad... I fell helplessly in love with his girlfriend... I Photoshopped an intimate picture... She died in a plane crash on her way to explain..."