Chapter 5
When Andrew came to again, he found himself lying in a hospital bed—just as Olivia stepped inside. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, as if fate itself had arranged their unexpected meeting.
Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Good to have you back." Her voice was cool, showing neither concern nor surprise.
She wore a pale business suit, her looks untouched by emotion—refined, distant, and every bit as untouchable as before.
That frosty tone was exactly the same as the voice he'd heard before passing out. The realization hit Andrew hard.
Andrew just stared at Olivia, like he was seeing her for the very first time—a stranger behind the face he thought he knew.
His burning stare made Olivia arch her brows in discomfort. "What's wrong?"
Andrew slowly shook his head.
Even a slight movement made the pain flare up in his cheek and wrist, draining what little color was left from his face.
Olivia watched him struggle with the pain he couldn't hide; for just an instant, her gaze darkened with something unreadable.
"I've already got my people on this. Whoever hurt you won't walk away so easily. And you, Andrew, you'd better start keeping a low profile. The world isn't as forgiving as you might think," Olivia said, her voice icy and commanding.
A bitter, mocking smile tugged at Andrew's lips. "Don't waste your time. It's already obvious."
Olivia's heart gave a sharp jolt at his words. She glanced at him, genuinely startled by his reaction.
It was like someone had poured poison straight into Andrew's heart. His chest was so tight with the kind of agony that just wouldn't let go.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
Andrew let out a hollow laugh. "Guess I deserved it."
He was a blind fool, and he asked for it. That was what it is.
"What did you just say?" Olivia asked, confusion flickering in her eyes.
She hadn't caught his words, and just as she was about to press him further, her phone suddenly rang.
Olivia glanced at the caller ID, and her whole demeanor softened.
"Ethan, I'll be right there," she said, her voice warm and gentle.
On her way out, Olivia threw a quick line at Andrew without even glancing back.
"I'll check on you later," she said, not really caring if he heard her or not.
She walked out without a pause, never giving Andrew a chance to protest.
But after she walked out that door, she never came back—not once throughout the whole week Andrew lay in that hospital bed, as if he'd vanished from her world.
And Andrew didn't chase after her anymore. Gone were the days he'd rack his brains just to figure out her whereabouts. Now, he simply let it all go.
In the blink of an eye, there were just a little more than ten days left before the divorce waiting period was over.
As soon as Andrew got out of the hospital, he headed straight home and started packing up his life.
All those gifts he'd carefully prepared for Olivia—she'd never spared them a glance. He dumped them all straight in the trash, no hesitation at all.
The clothes he'd bought in her favorite style, hoping she'd notice him, went in the garbage too.
And those love letters he'd written just to win her heart? He burned every single one of them.
By the end of it all, two big trash bags sat in the middle of the living room, stuffed full—like all the memories he'd finally decided to dump.
It felt just like what he was doing with his feelings for Olivia—heavy with regret, but now tossed aside without a second thought.
"Throw it all out," Andrew said to the maid, not a shred of emotion left in his voice.
Olivia walked in, passing the maid hauling out the trash without a word.
She looked at Andrew. "What are you getting rid of?"
Andrew gave a faint, dismissive smile. "Just some things that don't matter anymore."
Olivia didn't hesitate—she marched straight over and grabbed Andrew's arm. "Come with me."
In her urgency, she grabbed right onto his injured wrist, making him flinch.
Andrew winced, a jolt of pain flashing across his face as he sucked in a breath. "Where are we going?"
Olivia, cold sweat beading on her forehead, practically hauled Andrew toward the doorway, her words coming out fast and panicked.
"Ethan just fell and got hurt. His blood doesn't clot—same type as yours. He needs your blood, now," she snapped, not giving Andrew any chance to argue.
Andrew froze, planting his feet stubbornly. "I'm not going."
Olivia's expression turned ice-cold. "Andrew, you're going no matter what. You slapped him. Now, it's time to pay back what you owe."
Before the words were even out of her mouth, she'd already shoved him right up against the car door.
Andrew bit down his emotions, glaring stubbornly at her. "Didn't I already repay what I owed?"
"Quit your nonsense. We're family. If he needs help, you have to step up," Olivia shot back, her voice icy and commanding.
With that, she yanked open the car door and shoved Andrew inside, then barked at the driver, "Go."
Andrew knew there was no escape. Numb and hollow inside, he just gave in, letting Olivia drag him along.
Olivia's grip stayed tight on his wrist—her usual need for spotless hands forgotten, panic for Ethan overriding everything.
Andrew shot her a sarcastic grin. "You mind letting go now?" he said, voice dripping with irony.
Olivia paused and then pulled her hand away. Only then did she realize she'd been squeezing Andrew's injured wrist all along.
That wrist still hadn't healed, and her grip had left angry red marks across his skin.
Sweat pooled at his brow, and his face was almost bloodless. He was really hurting, no question about it.
But this time, the guy who used to jump at any chance to get her attention and beg for a little sympathy didn't say a word about the pain. He just kept it all to himself.
Olivia frowned, almost automatically murmuring, "Sorry, I..."
Andrew completely ignored her apology. He took out a disinfectant wipe from his bag, lowered his eyes, and methodically cleaned the spot she had touched—like he was scrubbing away a stain.
As if her touch was something filthy he couldn't bear on his skin.
Olivia's eyes narrowed in shock, her gaze turning cold and stormy in an instant.