Chapter 2

I stood at the study door, shaking so hard that I could barely hold it together. My brand new nails dug painfully into my palm—just to keep my face from falling apart.

In that photo, Janice was smiling, her long hair flowing over her shoulders. The way she smiled looked almost exactly like mine.

So that was why... That was why Andrew ended up marrying me.

It was all because I happened to have this face.

It felt like some cruel, invisible hand was squeezing my heart so tightly that I could barely catch my breath.

I took a deep breath, turned away from the study, and quietly closed the door behind me.

Back in the bedroom, I sat at the edge of the bed, zoning out as I stared at the necklace.

Just an ordinary necklace, really—nothing special.

Andrew hadn't even bothered to choose something with a bit of style.

I let out a bitter laugh, put the necklace back in its box, and shoved it deep into the drawer, hoping I'd never have to lay eyes on it again.

Suddenly, my phone started buzzing.

Andrew's name lit up on the screen.

I froze for a moment, then grabbed the phone. "Andrew?" I said.

"A friend has a fever. I'm taking her to the hospital," he replied, voice as cool as ever, but with an edge of urgency I hadn't heard before. "I won't be home tonight."

I parted my lips, struggling to speak as my throat tightened. "Okay." I managed.

After the call ended, I stared at the now-black screen, my eyes stinging with tears I refused to let fall.

So Janice was sick? That was all it took for him to drop everything and run to her, like I was nothing.

He had acted differently when I was sick.

Just last month, I had a fever spiking at 102°F, shivering, and curled up alone in bed. I must've called him a dozen times, desperate and half-delirious, but he didn't answer once.

In the end, a kind neighbor had to call an ambulance for me.

I spent three days in the hospital, and he didn't bother to visit me once.

But now, Janice just came down with a fever, and he was dropping everything to rush to her side.

Guess that was how it was—she got all his attention, and I was nobody.

I gripped my phone even tighter as a sharp pain twisted in my stomach. That was when I realized that I hadn't eaten anything all day.

I struggled to my feet, telling myself I should go warm up the cold food that had been sitting out in the kitchen all evening.

But the moment I made it to the living room, my vision suddenly went dark. I staggered, just barely catching myself against the wall so I wouldn't fall flat.

My whole body felt drained, my legs wobbly and useless.

I let out a weak, bitter laugh, hunched over and supporting myself as I shuffled to the couch.

Just as I was reaching for my phone, Janice's message popped up on the screen.

[Caught a fever, and Andrew insisted on bringing me to the hospital. Seriously, he's being too sweet. Kind of feel bad for bothering him.]

There was a photo attached—Janice in a hospital room, with an IV in her arm, Andrew sitting close beside her with a steaming cup of milk in his hand.

I stared at the photo, lips pulling into a bitter smile.

So he did know how to take care of someone.

Just not me.

Another sharp pain twisted in my stomach, and I doubled over, clutching my belly as cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

I couldn't put this off any longer. I needed to get to the hospital.

Forcing myself to stand, I grabbed my coat and phone, then stumbled out the door.

The night wind was freezing. I stood by the roadside, trying to wave down a cab, but none came for ages.

My head was getting fuzzier, my vision fading in and out with every passing second.

Finally, a cab stopped right in front of me.

I opened the door and slumped inside, my voice weak. "Take me to... Downtown Hospital."

The driver glanced nervously at me in the rearview mirror. "Miss, you look really pale. Do you want me to call your family for you?"

Family? The word echoed emptily inside me. Like I really had anyone to call.

I barely managed a weak smile and said softly, "No, thanks."

When I finally made it to the hospital, I checked in and sat down on a creaky bench in the hallway, waiting for my number to be called.

All around me, people bustled past. Most of them had someone there with them, a friend or a loved one to lean on. It was like everyone belonged, everyone but me.

I was just completely alone.

I ducked my head, blinking hard as my eyes started to burn.

"Cecilia?" Out of nowhere, a warm guy's voice broke through above me.

I looked up and saw a man standing there in a white coat—his features clean-cut and gentle, with eyes that seemed genuinely kind.

"Wow, it's really you." He grinned. "Remember me? Gilbert Bennett. We were classmates back in high school."

I blinked, trying desperately to recall that name from the foggy corners of my memory.

"Oh... it's you." I managed a faint smile. "Long time no see."

Gilbert took one look at my pale face, concern clouding his features. "Are you okay?"

My voice was barely a whisper. "Not really. I feel kinda sick."

He reached out, feeling my forehead. His expression turned serious. "You're burning up. Why are you here alone?"

I bit my lip, not trusting myself to say anything.

Gilbert seemed to understand, his eyes full of quiet concern. He didn't press for details and just gently helped me to my feet. "Come with me, Cecilia. I'll get you checked out right away."

He supported me all the way into the exam room, making sure I got my temperature taken, the blood test done, and my prescription sorted out. Everything was handled quickly, thanks to him.

Gilbert never left my side the entire time, staying with me through it all.

"103.1°F. If you had arrived any later, it could have gotten really bad," Gilbert frowned, his voice serious. "Where's your husband? I remember you said you got married."

I lowered my eyes, my tone barely a whisper. "He... has other things to deal with." Some things never changed. He was never here when I needed him.

Gilbert paused, concern flickering in his eyes, but didn't push any further. He just quietly dropped the subject.

He poured me a cup of warm water and handed me some fever medicine. "Take this first, Cecilia. I'll get your admission paperwork started."

I quickly shook my head. "Seriously, I'll be fine. I'll just take the meds and rest at home."

He sighed, "Cecilia, you're really not in any shape to go home by yourself. It's not safe."

I was about to argue when I suddenly heard footsteps in the hallway—footsteps I knew all too well.

"Doctor, how is she?"

It was Andrew's voice.

I stiffened, instinctively looking up.

Andrew stood in the doorway, his brow furrowed. When his eyes landed on me, he froze for a moment, clearly taken aback.

Andrew blinked, staring at me in disbelief. "Cecilia? What are you doing here?"