My Husband’s Mistress Sat Beside Me on the Flight,So I Took His $5 Billion Divorce Deal

My hands, hidden beneath my sleeves, trembled harder as I clutched the fabric of my clothes.

I thought back to all the times since he'd been transferred to Coastal South. Every visit, we never went beyond holding each other, a few kisses.

Every time I tried to initiate something more, he'd sigh.

"Work's been brutal. I'm exhausted. Can we wait until I've recovered a bit?"

But he always left before he ever "recovered."

The plane was preparing for takeoff again.

Roberta blew a kiss at her camera and ended the video call.

That's when Carl's message came through:

[Babe, you really don't trust me anymore? Is this because I'm working through the holidays instead of being with you? Are you upset?]

[I'll make it up to you when I'm back. I'll take you to that hot pot place you love, okay?]

The plane began its ascent. A flight attendant approached Roberta's new seat, carrying a black gift box with gold lettering.

"Ms. Delgado, a gentleman asked us to deliver this to you."

"Oh my God! A Prada necklace!" Roberta gasped. "How did he know I've been eyeing this one?"

The attendant smiled and handed over a card.

"Mr. Stephens also asked us to relay a message: He hopes Ms. Delgado won't let anyone's noise disturb her. Be bold. Be yourself. Treat every obstacle as if it doesn't exist."

She paused, her smile widening.

"Because Mr. Stephens will always stand behind you. He loves you. Always."

I stared at the message Carl had sent me.

I closed my eyes.

"Ms. Kaufman." Chief Purser Morgan appeared at my side, holding out a small velvet pouch. "This diamond is from Mr. Stephens. For you."

I frowned. "For me?"

She nodded.

"Mr. Stephens is aware there was some... unpleasantness between you and Ms. Delgado. He mentioned that Ms. Delgado has been under a lot of stress lately—doctor's orders not to get upset."

Her smile was practiced, diplomatic.

"So, Ms. Kaufman, perhaps you could apologize to Ms. Delgado? A sincere apology."

I looked at the diamond in her palm. A laugh escaped me—bitter, hollow.

"Just an apology? Isn't this a bit much?"

"Oh, you needn't worry about that." She chuckled. "Mr. Stephens earns several of these a day."

A six-figure diamond.

He could earn several a day?

I turned the stone over in my fingers, watching it catch the light.

Then I laughed.

So a stranger got more from him than I ever did.

I nodded slowly. "Fine. I'll apologize."

"Ms. Delgado!" Chief Morgan's voice brightened. "Mr. Stephens has sent her to apologize!"

I gave a slight bow. "I shouldn't have put my hands on you. I'm sorry. Please forgive me, Ms. Delgado."

"Sure." Roberta rose from her seat, a smile curling her lips. "Let me slap you twice, and we're even."

Chief Morgan's laugh was nervous, placating. "Ms. Delgado, she is older than you. Perhaps you could be the bigger person here—"

"So what if she's older?" Roberta's smile turned cruel. "Look at that face. Slapped or not, no man's going to want it. I give her two slaps, she walks away with a diamond. She should be thanking me."

Flight Attendant Harper tugged gently at my sleeve.

"Ma'am," she whispered, "maybe just let her. Two slaps and this is over. She has Mr. Stephens behind her."

"She's right, Ms. Kaufman." Chief Morgan leaned in. "A six-figure diamond. You're not exactly losing here."

Six figures.

Right.

It would take me eight, maybe ten years of scraping by to save that much.

This tiny stone in my hand could buy a decade of my life.

I turned it over one more time.

Then I let it drop.

Clatter.

It hit Roberta's tray table, rolled, and fell to the floor.

"I don't want it."

SLAP.

The blow came without warning, snapping my head to the side.

Roberta didn't even blink. "I offer you a gift and you refuse?"

That slap carried every ounce of her strength.

I staggered back two steps.

A flight attendant caught me before I fell.

"Ms. Kaufman, please—Ms. Delgado has always been like this."

"We'll find your diamond, I promise."

Crack.

My palm connected with Roberta's face so hard it knocked her back into her seat.

"You—you hit me!"

"Damn right I did."

I lunged forward again.

The attendants scrambled between us, pulling us apart.

For the rest of the flight, the crew watched us like hawks—terrified we'd go at each other again.

The moment we landed, Roberta bolted off the plane, eyes red and streaming.

I watched her storm through the gate.

And throw herself into a man's arms.

The handprint still blazing on her cheek.

"What happened to—"

Carl's expression shifted to something I recognized. Panic. Urgency.

More than he'd shown the day I lost our baby.

"She hit you again?"

"It's all your fault! That stupid diamond you gave her just made her more arrogant! No one has ever hit me like this..." Roberta dissolved into theatrical sobs.

She knew how to cry.

The kind of crying no man could resist.

"Where is she? I'll deal with this."

"Right here."

I stepped through the gate.

Carl's whole body went rigid.

I lifted my chin, letting my face emerge from beneath my cap.

"Hello, Mr. Stephens."