Chapter 5

During those days when I was forced to look after Lucas, I acted totally indifferent, almost as if I was trying to get back at him.

He seemed to pick up on my fading patience and care, so he just took whatever I gave him, never saying a word, quiet, like a kid terrified I would leave him behind.

I knew the doctor said he should eat bland food, but I still ordered takeout and made sure it was loaded with extra chili and salt.

He stared at the food, covered in red chili, for a long time, his lashes lowered, hiding his expression.

I raised an eyebrow at him, asking, "What's wrong? Not to your taste?"

He shook his head.

In the end, he didn't say a word. He just picked up his fork and ate it all in silence.

His stomach must have been killing him. I saw him hunch over a few times, clutching his stomach tightly, swallowing hard, his back shivering a little.

But I didn't ask. I just sat on the couch, totally absorbed in my phone game.

It wasn't until I finished another round that I looked up and saw him staring at me, his eyes red and wet at the corners, his voice hoarse. He said, "Honey, I'm hurting a little."

I was just annoyed that my game got interrupted, so I shot him a cold look.

A flash of disappointment flickered in his eyes. He opened his mouth, like he wanted to say more.

But in the end, he just lowered his eyes, careful not to say anything else.

The next morning, when the doctor came to check on him, I finally realized just how bad things were.

The truth was that his stomach was bleeding badly, and his wound had reopened. The sheets underneath him were already soaked through with blood.

But he just clenched his teeth and held on, not wanting to trouble me, until the doctor showed up.

Even as the doctor wheeled him out, blood kept coming out of his mouth, but he still tried to speak, his voice barely audible. He said, "Honey, don't worry."

For once, I actually felt a little guilty.

But then it hit me. He got himself hurt protecting Nina. It was not like I forced him to get stabbed for her.

Any trace of guilt disappeared just like that.

After that, I brought in extra nurses for Lucas, making sure I could completely avoid running into him.

Just seeing him looking so miserable and pathetic every day was enough to seriously annoy me.

The day Lucas was discharged, I was at home binge-watching my favorite show, so caught up that I completely forgot I was supposed to go pick him up from the hospital, and I didn't even notice his calls.

It wasn't until evening that I heard a soft knock at the door.

I opened the door and saw Lucas standing there by himself, face pale as a ghost, clutching a plastic bag from the hospital.

When he saw me, he tried to smile, his voice careful and a little timid. He said, "Honey."

I awkwardly stepped aside to let him in. I said, "Sorry, I totally spaced on your discharge today."

He wobbled just a bit, barely noticeable, his voice rough. He replied, "It's okay."

Just as I turned to close the door, he suddenly reached out from behind and gently took my wrist, his warmth seeping through my skin.

He pressed me against the door, head lowered, his bangs hiding his eyes, his breath carrying the bitter scent of medicine. He asked, "Honey, are you still mad at me?"

I frowned, trying to push him away, but even though he looked weak, his arms were still surprisingly strong.

Just as I was about to kick him, the System's shrill alarm went off in my head again.

I held back my annoyance, trying to sound as calm as possible. I said, "I'm not mad."

"You are mad," Lucas said, fixing me with a stubborn look, his eyes confused and openly hurt.

He said, "You didn't come see me for a whole week, and you didn't pick up any of my calls. I thought something might've happened to you."

He paused, his voice dropping even lower, almost mumbling. He said, "You didn't even remember when I was supposed to leave the hospital. Actually, I left ahead of schedule. Today wasn't even my real discharge date."

As he spoke, he gently brought my hand up to his cheek.

His voice was shaky, careful, almost pleading. He said, "Just tell me, what did I do wrong?"

Seeing that lost, innocent look in his eyes, I let out a bitter laugh. I couldn't hold back anymore. I slapped him.

The sharp sound echoed through the entryway.

He didn't even try to dodge. He just stood there, dazed, staring at me.

Suddenly, he grabbed my hand, his gaze locked onto the faint scar on the back of it. He asked, "Where did this come from?"

I looked at him quietly, a cold smile playing on my lips.

I said softly, my voice emotionless, "On our wedding day, you promised you'd always keep me safe.

"But you broke your promise."

He suddenly swayed, like something finally clicked in his mind.

His face grew even paler, and his lips moved as he said, "I'm sorry, honey. I really didn't know."

Did he really not know?

Of course, he didn't. How could he?

Back then, his whole world revolved around Nina. When did he ever really notice me?

Suddenly, I couldn't help but laugh at how foolish I used to be.

How ridiculous? Letting myself get torn up by all those feelings, day after day.

And he was always just on the sidelines, never even realizing how messed up it was to keep leaving me behind, rushing off to save someone else every single time.

I pulled my hand free, my voice cool and distant. I said, "It's nothing. That's all behind us now."

I slipped on that gentle smile I'd rehearsed countless times, reaching out to smooth the creases on his collar.

My tone was soft and sweet, perfectly forgiving. I said, "I shouldn't hold these things against you. You're still recovering; don't just stand here, go rest up."

The worry in his eyes disappeared in a flash, replaced by joy so bright it was almost childlike. He grabbed my wrist, nearly bursting with eagerness. He asked, "Honey, have you really forgiven me?"

His voice shook with excitement, his eyes sparkling so brightly it was almost dazzling. He said, "I swear, I'll protect you. I won't let anything happen to you ever again. Really, you have to trust me."

I nodded, a smile on my lips, but my eyes were as cold and barren as a frozen wasteland.

Watching him look so relieved, practically ready to wag his tail, all I felt was bitter irony.