Chapter 3

In the end, my mom couldn't get the best treatment anymore.

I was buried under a mountain of debt, my career completely destroyed. I couldn't even get a job as a dishwasher.

After returning to the past, I decided to let it all go.

But Stefan was convinced I was being stubborn out of spite.

He clamped down on my wrist, and his explanation quickly morphed into a full-blown accusation.

"Can you stop throwing a fit already? There's a limit to this drama," Stefan shot back. "How many times do I have to say it? There's nothing between me and her. What do you want from me?"

I was so exhausted my mind was foggy, and I let out a confused "huh", barely able to process what Stefan was saying.

I brushed his hand aside and replied calmly, "I'm not angry, and I don't want anything from you."

When Stefan saw that I really wasn't holding onto the issue anymore, he relaxed a bit.

He took it as me finally backing down.

His expression softened, and he suddenly stepped forward, reaching out as if to hug me.

But I pushed him away.

"I'm so tired. I'm going to bed," I said.

With that, I walked into my room and crashed onto the bed.

Stefan lingered in the living room, silent for a long time.

Finally, he slammed the door and stormed out.

For the whole week after that, Stefan never showed up at home.

He didn't call me, not even once.

Meanwhile, the hospital sent me a huge bill, telling me I had to pay up fast for my mom's treatment.

If I didn't, the transplant wouldn't happen.

I knew Stefan was forcing me to back down.

I sighed, realizing I wasn't ready to confront him head-on.

So I took the initiative and texted him first. [When are you coming back?]

Half an hour later, the hospital informed me that the bill had been paid and my mom's transplant surgery had been successfully performed.

I let out a sigh of relief. Good thing I didn't let my pride get in the way this time.

Before I went to bed, Stefan still hadn't come home, and he hadn't replied to my text.

But he popped up all over Phoebe's social media feed.

He went with her on the Ferris wheel, tried an escape room, and even camped out by the beach to watch the sunrise.

He never did any of that with me.

If this had been the old me, I would've rushed over there and raised hell.

Or I'd be blowing up Stefan's phone, fighting with him nonstop.

And he'd just get annoyed and say, "What's with the drama this time?

"It's just a company outing. Can you not make a scene?"

But now, nothing could stir me anymore.

I finished up my work emails without a second thought.

Then, I gave Phoebe's post a quick like.

I started feeling hot and cold, felt woozy all over. I must be coming down with a high fever.

I tore through the medicine box but couldn't find anything. Instinctively, I reached for my phone to call Stefan.

Then it hit me. He'd told me not to call him.

I let out a sigh and crashed straight into bed.

Half-asleep, I was suddenly awakened by a harsh, blinding light.

I opened my eyes to find Stefan standing there, his mood stormy.

Anger flashed in his eyes as he demanded, "I haven't come home for days, and you're not even worried?

"You didn't hear from me, so why didn't you call? You didn't ask where I was or who I was with. You just went to sleep like that?

"And what about Phoebe's social media? Don't tell me you didn't see her posts."

My head was splitting, and honestly, I couldn't be bothered to deal with his drama.

I snapped back, not bothering to hide my annoyance, "I already said I trust you. So why are you still freaking out?

"You told me not to call because I was interrupting your work. Wasn't I giving you the space you wanted?"

My words hung in the air, and both Stefan and I were caught off guard for a moment.

When I first realized Phoebe was always by Stefan's side, it hit me hard.

Back then, my nerves were stretched to the breaking point.

Anytime Phoebe showed up, I'd start text-bombing him nonstop.

If he didn't answer, I'd keep calling over and over, doing whatever I could to force him to come home.

Eventually, he blocked me.

Driven by fury, I stormed straight into his office, ready to confront him.

But when I got there, I found Phoebe and Stefan sitting together, laughing and playing games.

Phoebe had Stefan's phone in her hand.

However, rule number one in their company's orientation was: never touch the boss's personal stuff.

But Phoebe was right there, playing games on Stefan's phone and cozying up to him on the office couch.

All these years, I was the only one allowed to break that rule.

Fueled by rage, I burst into his office and shattered his favorite antique right in front of him.

I confronted him, demanding to know why he blocked me and kept ignoring my messages and calls.

Stefan pulled Phoebe behind him, shielding her as she looked totally frightened.

With a cold glare, he yelled at me, "Get out! This isn't the place for your crazy antics.

"And stop calling me during work hours. I'm not your slave. I'm a person, I need some space and freedom too."