Chapter 5

When Vivian woke up again, she was in a hospital room, and her eyes met Lucas' just as he walked through the door.

"You're awake?" Lucas was wearing a silver-gray suit, and his features were as perfect as always—elegant, distant, untouchable.

His deep voice matched exactly what she'd heard right before she passed out.

Vivian stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time.

Her gaze was too intense, and Lucas frowned slightly. "What's wrong?"

Vivian shook her head slowly. Even that slight movement pulled at the injuries on her face and wrist, and what little color she had left drained away.

Lucas watched the pain flash across her face, and something complicated flickered in his eyes.

"I've already sent people to find whoever did this to you," he said. "You need to keep a lower profile from now on and stop picking fights with people."

A bitter smile curved Vivian's lips. "Don't bother."

Lucas' heart skipped, and he looked at her in surprise.

Vivian felt like her heart was drowning in bitter water, the ache swelling painfully in her chest.

Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "I deserve this."

She'd been blind—literally blind—falling for the wrong man, and now she was paying the price. How could she not deserve this?

"What did you say?" Lucas hadn't caught her words, and he was about to ask again when his phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the caller ID, and his expression softened immediately. "Chloe, I'll be right there."

He was already heading for the door when he tossed over his shoulder, "I'll come check on you later."

And just like that, he was gone. He didn't give Vivian a chance to refuse, didn't even look back.

That was the last she saw of him. She stayed in the hospital for a week, and he never showed up again.

Vivian didn't chase after him like she used to, didn't spend every day trying to track down where he was or what he was doing.

Before she knew it, there were only ten days left in their divorce cooling-off period.

She went straight home after getting discharged and started packing up her things.

All those gifts she'd carefully chosen for Lucas—the ones he'd never even glanced at—went straight into the trash.

The clothes she'd bought to catch his attention, the ones she'd picked out based on his taste, all got tossed too.

And those ninety-nine love letters she'd written while chasing after him? She burned every single one.

By the time she was done, there were two huge bags of garbage sitting in the living room.

They were just like the heavy feelings Vivian had been carrying for Lucas all this time.

She turned to the maid and said, "Throw them all away."

Lucas walked in just as the maid was carrying out the garbage bags, and they passed each other in the doorway. He glanced at Vivian and asked, "What are you throwing away?"

Vivian smiled faintly, "Just some expired, useless things."

Lucas didn't think much of it and walked straight over to grab her arm. "Come with me."

He was in such a hurry that he grabbed her injured wrist without realizing it. The pain shot through her, and she couldn't help but gasp. "Where are we going?"

Lucas had cold sweat on his forehead, and he dragged her toward the door while speaking urgently, "Chloe fell and got hurt. She has a clotting disorder, and I remember you two have the same blood type. You need to go donate blood for her."

Vivian stopped in her tracks. "I'm not going."

Lucas' expression turned even colder. "Vivian, you're going whether you like it or not. You slapped her, so this is what you owe her."

Even as he spoke, Lucas was already dragging Vivian toward the car door.

Vivian held back her emotions and looked at him stubbornly. "But I've already paid back what I owed her, haven't I?"

Lucas said, "Cut the crap. You're family, so when she needs something, you give it to her."

He pulled the car door open and shoved Vivian inside, then barked at the driver, "Drive."

Vivian knew there was no escaping this, and her heart went dead and quiet inside her chest.

His fingers were still wrapped tightly around her wrist, and he was so worried about Chloe that he didn't even notice his usual germophobia.

She gave him a mocking smile. "Can you let go of me now?"

Lucas froze and released her hand, only then realizing he'd been gripping her injured wrist.

The wrist that hadn't fully healed yet now had finger marks pressed into the skin from how hard he'd squeezed.

Cold sweat beaded at her temples, and her face had gone pale—she was clearly in pain.

But the woman who used to be so delicate and always came to him acting sweet and clingy didn't say a single word to make him feel guilty.

He frowned and said instinctively, "I'm sorry, I—"

Vivian acted like she hadn't heard him at all. She pulled a disinfectant wipe from her bag. She calmly cleaned the spot where he'd touched her, her eyes downcast and expression completely neutral.

It was as if he were something dirty.

Lucas' eyes narrowed, and his gaze went dark.