"Director, I'm requesting a transfer to the European division—permanent assignment to international routes." In the headquarters of Southsun Airways, Evelyn Montgomery stood tall in her crisp pilot uniform, the epaulets gleaming under the sunlight. She placed the transfer request gently on the director's desk, her fingertips trembling slightly. The director set down his pen, brows furrowed. "Evelyn, you're our youngest female captain. The domestic routes need you more." Evelyn pressed her lips together, her gaze drifting to the planes taking off and landing outside the window. "My parents are gone. And as for my marriage..." She paused. "It's nearly over too." Silence filled the office. The director sighed and picked up his pen, signing the request. "Processing will take three days. Evelyn, an eagle like you truly belongs in a wider sky." Stepping out of the building, the early summer sun stung her eyes. Evelyn raised a hand to shield them, suddenly remembering—today was their third wedding anniversary. The villa was quiet. Alexander Hartley sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, reviewing documents, the cold light reflecting off his rimless glasses. He didn’t look up when she entered. "There's food in the kitchen." Evelyn’s eyes landed on the exquisitely wrapped gift box on the coffee table. "For me?" she asked softly. Only then did Alexander glance up, his gaze as detached as if she were a stranger. "Yes. An anniversary gift." She untied the ribbon. Inside was a diamond necklace—almost identical to the one he’d given Sophia Whitaker last month, except smaller, missing two main stones. "Thank you." Evelyn closed the box, her nails digging into her palms. "I have a gift for you too." From her briefcase, she pulled out the divorce papers and set them before him. Alexander finally frowned. "What is this?" "Exactly what it looks like." She smiled faintly. "Sophia is back. It’s time we ended this marriage." The memory of their first meeting three years ago flashed vividly in her mind. In that café, Alexander had been impeccably dressed in a suit, his first words to her: "If you don’t mind, we could skip the formalities and marry directly." How could she have minded? She’d secretly admired him since their university days. Even when their marriage turned cold, she endured it, believing it was simply his nature. Until that rainy night three months ago. She would never forget the way his eyes had lit up when he took that call. He’d grabbed his car keys and rushed out, forgetting even an umbrella. It was the first time she’d ever seen her composed husband so frantic. In the hospital corridor, Sophia had leaned weakly against Alexander’s shoulder, and he—right in front of his wife—had tenderly wiped away her tears. "Evelyn, don’t be unreasonable," Alexander said, removing his glasses to rub his temples. "Sophia and I aren’t what you think." The butler entered at that moment. "Sir, the French roses Miss Whitaker requested have arrived. The landscaper asked if they should be delivered to her apartment now." Alexander nodded. "Include a crystal vase. She likes clear ones." Evelyn laughed—a sharp, bitter sound. How ironic. He remembered Sophia’s preference for vases but forgot she was allergic to lily pollen. "Alexander," she took a deep breath, "in these three years, was there ever a single moment you loved me?" Dusk settled outside. His silence was more brutal than any answer. Evelyn turned and walked upstairs. Her suitcase was already packed. One last glance around the "home" she’d lived in for three years, and she felt not a shred of reluctance. At the foyer, Alexander still stood, the divorce papers crumpled in his grip. "My flight leaves tomorrow morning," she said, opening the door. "Once you sign the papers, my lawyer will contact you." The night wind lifted her hair. This time, she was finally flying toward a sky of her own.