Chapter 3

My hand was buried in my coat pocket, my nails digging so hard into my palm it felt like I might draw blood.

When I nodded, I barely whispered "Mm," so quiet I wasn't even sure if he caught it.

James let out a soft laugh, with a hint of irony, but his voice was flat.

He'd always been like that, calm and rational, always keeping his cool, never showing much emotion.

Except for that one time a month ago, when he proposed to me in front of everyone, his voice was shaky with nerves.

I was so flustered, I just said I'd think about it.

The next day, after I got my hospital diagnosis, I told him we should break up.

And now, not even a month later, he'd already gotten into his fourth crash from racing.

The first crash was the night I told him it was over.

The second time, he saw me going to Henry Quinn, and outside the hospital, Henry hugged me.

The third time, he found out I spent the night at Henry's place.

And the fourth time was just yesterday.

He went totally off the rails, acting like nothing mattered, as if his life was just some kind of joke.

But now, he was back to his usual calm and logical self.

James spoke calmly, "After staring death in the face, I finally get it.

"There's no reason to tie myself to one person, and especially not to you, Emily."

He paused, his voice trailing off.

Without meaning to, I looked up and met his icy stare.

The man who used to look at me with nothing but tenderness, now there was nothing left but emptiness in his eyes.

James finished the sentence he had left hanging, and his tone stayed cold.

"Honestly, Emily, someone like you really isn't worth it."

It felt like getting punched in the chest by something I couldn't even see.

My eyes stung with tears as I turned away, staring out the window.

James kept talking, his voice calm and even in my ear.

"My dad set me up on a blind date the other day. Guess who I ran into?"

I couldn't get a word out.

He spoke slowly, "Lucy.

"You know that junior from your brother's program, the one who's his secretary now."

"She's really come into her own these past few years."

I couldn't take it anymore.

I pulled out my phone, pretending to check it, and cut him off.

"Dr. Quinn just texted me, he's outside. Sorry, I have to go."

James still had that smile on his face, but it never reached his eyes.

He just looked at me, not saying another word.

As I turned to leave, I heard his voice, still eerily calm.

"Emily, I hope I never have to see you again."

I hurried out of the inpatient building, my steps picking up speed almost without me realizing.

Everything started to blur at the edges, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself to keep it together.

I couldn't get James out of my head, him sitting there in that wheelchair, looking so helpless.

I didn't even know if he just couldn't walk for now, or if his legs were really messed up for good after that crash.

But now, I didn't dare ask, and I couldn't ask.

As I stepped outside, I saw James still there through the glass doors, sitting motionless in his wheelchair.

His back was to me now, so I couldn't see his face anymore.

My stomach started churning again, twisting with pain.

I was still holding my phone, but my hands were so stiff I could barely move them.

I made a beeline for the trash can, but in my hurry, I ran right into someone by accident.

I kept apologizing, over and over.

A woman's annoyed voice snapped, "Hey, watch where you're going.

"Kids these days, always glued to their phones."

Her voice faded in and out, sounding miles away.

I bent over the trash can, throwing up until everything was spinning.

My stomach was totally empty, and all I could get out was some sour, acidic liquid, with a metallic taste of blood lingering in my throat.

Someone gently tapped me on the shoulder from behind.

Suddenly, my emotions just overflowed, and tears started streaming down before I could stop them.

When I turned around, I saw Henry standing there in his white coat.

He was taken aback for a moment, then let out a sigh.

He pulled out a tissue and handed it to me.

With a hint of pity in his expression, he said, "You should tell your brother and Mr. Rowan. At least you'll have someone to look after you."

I wiped my tears away, not caring how messy it looked.

Suddenly, I remembered that golden retriever puppy James helped me raise when he was fifteen.

I'd found a little stray puppy on my way home from school.

Ryan was allergic to dog fur, so I couldn't keep it at home, and James said he'd take care of it for me.

But James' father didn't like dogs and wouldn't let him bring it home.

So James secretly rented a small place nearby just for the puppy.

Every day, on his way to and from school, James would stop by to check on the puppy, snap some pictures, and send them to me.

James took care of the dog for more than half a year.

But then the dog got sick, and nothing James tried could save it.

At that time, I was stuck in the hospital with a high fever, so I couldn't even go see it.

James skipped school and holed up in that tiny apartment for two days, but the dog still didn't make it.

Because he skipped school, James was publicly reprimanded by the whole school.

When he got home, his father was so furious that he broke one of James' ribs and locked him in the basement for three days.

After that, James never kept a dog again, and he became a lot more withdrawn.

He used to love dogs so much, but after that, he couldn't even bring himself to look at pet dogs on the street.

Ryan once told me, "If you let him think the dog didn't die from illness, but just ran away, he probably wouldn't feel so guilty and sad."

James always thought the dog's illness was his fault, that he hadn't taken care of it properly.

After we got together, whenever I caught a cold or got sick, he'd always blame himself, saying it was because he made me catch a chill.

So I hoped he'd never find out about my illness, so he wouldn't blame himself for not taking care of me well enough.

I wanted him to think I left on my own, that I simply walked away and left him behind.

My thoughts snapped back to the present.

I looked at Henry and said softly, "Let's just leave it. I'd rather not talk about it."

Henry frowned. "It's fine if you want to keep it from James.

"But Ryan is your brother, your closest family. He's going to find out eventually."