Chapter 2

I knew what he really meant. He was worried about money.

With end-stage kidney disease, he needed dialysis two to three times a week.

Each session, plus the medication, cost over 300 dollars.

Now that he was too sick to work, he knew the burden was on me.

But the condition was excruciating, and more frequent dialysis at least eased some of the pain.

I gripped his arm and said firmly, "You're going to follow the doctor's orders. I've got a big deal at work, and once I close it, I'm getting promoted. Three hundred dollars is less than what I spend on lunch."

The truth was, even with the promotion, my monthly salary would barely cross three thousand dollars.

But at least I wouldn't need to keep borrowing money just to pay his medical bills.

Lance walked up and gently helped support my dad from the other side.

With a warm voice, he said, "Just focus on getting better, sir. Sariah's doing great at work. You don't need to worry about a thing."

I knew my dad hated being a burden, but even so, I saw a flicker of pride in his eyes.

"My daughter's always been capable," he said.

Once we got everything processed, he lay in the ward for his dialysis session.

It was nearly one in the afternoon when I went downstairs to get him lunch.

Just as I stepped out of the elevator, I found Harvey standing right in front of me.

His girlfriend was gone.

He looked at me with cold, cutting eyes and said with a sneer, "Congratulations—so, you finally got what you wanted?"

My palms were drenched in sweat, and I tried to slip past him without a word.

It had been five years since we broke up.

And even after all this time, I still didn't have the courage to face him properly.

Just thinking about the past was like tearing open a wound that had never healed.

All I could feel was pain—raw and bitter cold.

Harvey grabbed my arm, refusing to let me go.

"What's wrong, Sariah?" he said. "Guilt finally caught up with you? Can't even look me in the eye now?"

My face went pale as I pushed his hand away, my voice trembling. "Mr. Wilkinson, we're over. Please show some respect."

Harvey let out a dry, bitter laugh, as if I'd told a joke.

"Respect?" he said. "Sariah, you're the last person who should be asking for respect."

I shoved his hand away and stumbled off, barely keeping my balance.

I didn't stop until I was far, far away.

Only then did I dare look back. He hadn't followed.

And Harvey was right.

If anyone had lost the right to ask for respect between us, it was me.