Chapter 3

I was pinned down on the bed by a swarm of doctors and nurses as they re-bandaged me, stitching up my forehead with six stitches.

Thomas stood by my bedside, his face so dark that it looked like a storm was brewing. His hands were still trembling, and the back of his hand was stained with my blood.

Daniel had already bolted, scared out of his wits. I bet he would have a lifelong phobia of hammers after this.

The hospital room was eerily quiet, with only the beeping of the heart monitor breaking the silence.

"Wren, what the hell are you doing?" Thomas finally snapped, his voice hoarse and tinged with a barely noticeable panic. "You think hurting yourself like this will make me forgive you? That it'll hide the truth about you pushing Lucy and causing her miscarriage?"

I rolled my eyes at him. What was he thinking? I'd smashed my head with a hammer, and he still thought I was putting on an act to win his favor?

"Thomas, do you have a persecution complex or something?" I let out a cold laugh. "I'm not trying to hide anything. I genuinely want to die.

"Isn't that what you all want? For me to pay with my life for Lucy's unborn child? Well, I'm working on it."

"Shut up," Thomas roared, his voice booming. "If you want to die, do it somewhere else. Don't stain my eyes with it."

"Oh, got it." I nodded, obediently tossed aside the covers, and strode barefoot to the window.

This was the sixteenth floor of the hospital. If I jumped, I'd be nothing but a bloody mess. No one would even bother trying to save me.

I pushed the window open, and cold air instantly flooded the room.

"What are you doing?" Thomas's pupils contracted as he rushed toward me.

"I'm giving you what you want. I won't die in front of you." I shot him a grin, grabbed the windowsill, and swung myself out without a second's hesitation.

"Wren!" Thomas let out a piercing scream and threw himself toward the window.

In the split second my body plummeted downward, he leaned halfway out the window and clamped a death grip on my wrist.

The momentum was so great that half his body was dragged right out the window, his abdomen slamming violently against the windowsill, drawing a low, pained grunt from him.

"Let go," I said calmly, dangling in midair, watching Thomas's face turn red from the effort as he held onto me.

"Are you insane? Get back up here," Thomas growled through clenched teeth, veins bulging on his forehead as he refused to let go.

"I'm not crazy. I want to give what you all want." I struggled, trying to shake free from his grip. "Let go. If I die, you can finally marry Lucy. Isn't that what everyone wants?"

"I won't let you die. Do you hear me? I won't let you die." Thomas's eyes were red, and tears slid down his cheeks, landing on the back of my hand.

I froze for a moment, only to feel an overwhelming sense of irony.

Ten years of giving him everything, and he never shed a single tear. Now that I wanted to die, he was suddenly playing the tragic lover.

"Thomas, you're disgusting," I said coldly, locking eyes with him. "Who was there with you, eating fast food and pulling all-nighters to write business plans when you had nothing?

"Who spent a month by your mom's bedside, cleaning up shit and piss when she was sick? Who took a knife for Daniel when he screwed up, and has a scar on my back?"

Thomas flinched, panic and pain flashing in his eyes.

"Now that Lucy's back, I'm suddenly the villain. Fine, I accept it. I'll give her my place, and give her my life. Why are you still holding onto me?" I pried Thomas's fingers off my wrist with all my strength.

"No, don't." Thomas's voice cracked, tears threatening to spill as he desperately tried to pull me up. But I was too heavy, and he couldn't manage it.

Just then, the door burst open. A bunch of doctors and security guards rushed in, grabbing Thomas and hauling him back, and pulling me up along with him.

I survived again.

I collapsed onto the floor, watching Thomas gasp for breath as the security guards pinned him down.

In my head, I was cursing the system out a million times. "System, are you screwing with me? Why does it never work when I try to die?"

The system replied weakly: [Host, maybe it's because you always make such a dramatic scene every time you try to die, so someone always ends up saving you. Maybe next time you should be more discreet?]