I never expected a routine flight to turn into a moral dilemma that would change lives forever. When I discovered the man next to me was planning to cheat on his wife, I had to choose: mind my own business or take action — but at what cost?
I stepped into the bustling airport, my carry-on rolling behind me. The place was packed. Families hugging, businesspeople power-walking. Then I spotted them — a couple at the coffee shop, looking like they’d just stepped out of a rom-com.
The guy was tall, dark-haired, probably late 30s. The woman was blonde, petite, and giggling at everything he said. They were lost in each other. I smiled to myself. Young love, right? Or so I thought.
Later, on the plane, I ended up seated next to the guy. We exchanged small talk. Then he pulled out his phone, texting his wife about their kids. My stomach dropped. Moments later, the blonde woman from the coffee shop walked by, and they began flirting.
I had to do something.
