I was sick. Fever, chills, nonstop coughing. But with important meetings ahead and a hotel already booked, canceling my flight wasn’t an option. I boarded quietly, took my window seat, and did my best to stay low-profile.

But ten minutes into the flight, a woman across the aisle erupted.
“This is unbearable! He’s coughing nonstop! Why is he even on this flight?”

I apologized, promised to take medicine, even suggested she use headphones.
“I’m not putting anything on,” she snapped. “You’re ruining my vacation!”

She called the flight attendant, who listened patiently, then left. A few minutes later, she returned with an update.

“To make everyone more comfortable,” she said, “we’d like to move a passenger.”

The woman looked smug. “Good. Move him.”

The attendant turned to me. “If you’re okay with it, we have a seat open in business class—dinner and drinks included.”

I nodded, smiled, and followed her past the stunned woman, whose face twisted in shock as I walked by.

She got her peace.
I got a hot meal, a warm blanket, and a seat that reclined.

The rest of the flight? Quiet, calm… and honestly, kind of perfect.