Final Boarding Call: Divorcing My Billionaire Husband Chapter 1

I am a flight attendant.

My husband is incredibly successful, but he doesn't love me.

Every month, he takes a flight that I am working on.

And every time, he brings a different glamorous woman by his side.

My heart bleeds, but I can only endure it in silence.

The last time, right before the plane was about to land, I walked over, leaned down to his ear, and whispered softly:

"Carter, I agree to the divorce. I have tomorrow off. Let's go get it done."

* * *

The plane was cruising smoothly at thirty thousand feet.

I was at the rear galley organizing the meal carts when the lead flight attendant, the purser, walked over.

I stood up straight. "Purser."

She took the checklist from my hands and looked it over.

"You're qualified to be promoted to First Class service. Why don't you put in for it?"

"I don't think I'm good enough yet. I still have a lot to learn."

"Humility is a virtue, but being too humble isn't good for your career. Go heat up the meals."

She handed the checklist back to me and returned to First Class.

My gaze followed her, landing on the passenger in seat 1A.

No one on this crew knew that the VIP in First Class—our airline’s most elite black card holder—was my husband.

But sitting next to him was a stunning, radiant woman.

I couldn't go to First Class.

I couldn't bring myself to smile, crouch down, and provide flawless service to my own husband and whatever woman he had brought along.

Even though we had been married for a year, we had never truly been husband and wife.