Chapter 3
"You did that on purpose," I snapped, my voice shaking with rage.
I stared down at the pills scattered across the floor and the shards of broken glass, my whole body trembling with fury.
"Yeah, so what?" Vivian sneered, dropping all pretense of remorse.
Her face was openly taunting, her eyes blazing with defiance.
"Seriously, Evelyn? You still think you're Mrs. Ford?" she scoffed.
"You're just some trash Lucas tossed out like yesterday's leftovers. If I step on you, you should be thanking me for even acknowledging you."
She knelt down and ground the pills into the floor with the tip of her stiletto.
"Lucas said I should make sure you're 'taken care of,'" Vivian drawled, dripping with sarcasm.
"What do you think he'd do if I told him you've been sneaking around with some shady pills?
"Would he feel sorry for you? Or just totally disgusted?"
A sharp, burning pain exploded in my chest, and black spots blurred the edges of my vision.
I gripped the doorframe and fixed her with a cold, hard stare. "Get out."
"Get out? Who the hell do you think you are?" Vivian snarled, her contempt practically dripping from her lips.
She stood, marched straight toward me, and lifted her hand to slap me across the face.
My body moved before my brain could catch up—I grabbed her wrist on pure instinct.
Years of illness had left me little more than skin and bones, yet somehow, my grip was shockingly tight.
Vivian let out a shrill cry of pain. "Let go of me, you disgusting bitch!"
"I'm warning you one last time—leave," I said, my voice icy. "Push me, and I'll hit you back."
For a split second, fear flashed in Vivian's eyes, but it was quickly swallowed up by bitter hatred.
She wrenched her hand free, her sharp nails raking across the back of mine and leaving bloody scratches.
"Evelyn, you'll pay for this! I swear you'll regret it!" she hissed.
With that, she fled the apartment in a flustered, panicked rush.
Silence crashed back down.
Slowly, I squatted down, trying to salvage whatever pills were still usable.
But my hands wouldn't stop shaking, and everything in front of me blurred into a mess.
I could only collapse onto the floor, helpless, letting the darkness swallow me whole.
I had no idea how long I'd been unconscious when violent banging on the door jolted me awake.
Lucas burst inside, his presence cold and menacing.
Vivian trailed right behind him, fake tears streaming down her face.
"Lucas, look at my wrist—it's all bruised! She's completely insane!" Vivian wailed, laying the victim act on thick.
Lucas' eyes flicked to the broken pill bottle, then settled on my pale, drained face.
His gaze burned with rage, but confusion twisted beneath it.
"Evelyn, what the hell are you up to now?" he snapped.
"Are you pretending to be sick just to make me feel sorry for you?"
I leaned against the wall, gasping for breath in ragged, shallow bursts.
Lucas mistook my silence for guilt.
"You'll stoop to anything to hang onto what's left, won't you?" he sneered.
He crouched down, grabbed my jaw roughly, and forced my face up to meet his.
"Quit this pathetic act. It makes me sick," he spat.
"Lay a hand on Vivian again, and you'll regret ever being born," he threatened.
"Vivian's nothing like you. She loves me—even the broken, messed-up version of me."
His words sliced straight through my heart.
I stared at him, and suddenly, all I felt like doing was laugh.
I'd given everything to keep him alive—did he really think I never loved him?
A violent, wrenching cough tore through me, and I doubled over, my chest throbbing with sharp, searing pain.
Lucas' hand twitched instinctively, almost reaching to steady me, but he froze mid-movement, his arm hanging uselessly in the air.
"Cut the act already," he said coldly.
He pulled out a bank card and flicked it directly at my face.
"Three hundred thousand for those useless pills—that enough to cover them?" Lucas sneered.
"Don't you ever show your face in front of me again," he said flatly.
I let out a bitter laugh before I could stop myself. "Afraid I'll fall apart without you? Is that why you left me the apartment... and now you're throwing money at me?"
For a split second, nervousness flashed across his face—a crack in his mask, revealing his true feelings.
He snapped, "Don't make me gag; stop kidding yourself—I stopped loving you a long time ago."
He turned to leave, but Vivian caught his arm and pointed at the broken bottle on the floor. "Lucas, look—I just Googled those pills. They're for cancer."
Lucas froze mid-step.
He spun around, shock flashing in his eyes before it curdled into disdain and fury.
"Cancer?" he laughed bitterly, like it was the most absurd lie he'd ever heard.
He looked at me like I was nothing but a bad joke.
"Evelyn, are you serious? Faking cancer just to cling to me?" he scoffed.
I let out a heavy, hopeless sigh. Of course he'd think that—that I was just digging at his old wounds, using his mother's memory to guilt him.
He snatched Vivian's phone and hurled it at my feet.
"You really think pretending you're dying will make me pity you? That I'd ever take you back?" he snarled.
"Not in a million years!
"Even if you are actually dying," Lucas said coldly, his words sharper than a knife, "I'd only feel relieved."
He broke into a brutal fit of coughing, one harsh hack after another.
He clutched his chest, trembling so badly he could barely stand.
Vivian panicked. "Lucas, what's wrong?!"
Lucas brushed her off, but his coughing only grew worse.
He leaned against the wall, his eyes locked on mine.
Beneath all his hatred, there was a flicker of longing—one he didn't even realize he had.