When I boarded my husband’s private jet, his secretary was sitting beside him in my usual seat, feeding him peeled oranges while his mother told me to be considerate. I didn’t argue.

me.

Nobody asked Aaron whether humiliating his wife in front of his team might be the real problem.

They probably thought I was leaving because I had lost the argument.

I didn’t correct them.

Near the cabin door, a flight attendant hurried toward me.

Two other crew members followed.
“Ma’am,” she said quietly, “would you like us to cancel the flight?”

I glanced at the gold emblem stitched onto her uniform.

I recognized it immediately.

The aviation company belonged to my family.

Aaron had been using that aircraft for nearly