Chapter 9
The hallway was packed with lawyers, doctors, and project managers.
Eric lifted his hand, and everyone instantly fell silent.
He pushed the door open and walked in, his eyes landing on me first.
The needle marks from the first aid were still visible on the back of my hand, and my sleeve had fallen back, exposing a large bruise.
His brows furrowed slightly as he bent down to pull my sleeve back up.
His fingertips lingered for a second when they brushed my wrist, pausing there a bit.
Then, he set a document down in front of me.
"Sign it," he said. "Leila can't stop her medication."
I glanced down at the document.
It was a consent form letting them take my blood and body samples once more, so they could treat Leila.
William's eyes were bloodshot from staying up all night.
"These samples disappeared after the three times you got hurt. We can't rule out that you stopped us from using them on purpose," he said.
I understood what he meant.
They all believed I was hurting myself to get back at Leila.
Eric pulled out a chair and sat down across from me.
"If you provide new samples, Leila can keep getting her treatment, and the foundation stays safe. This is the best way to avoid any losses," he said.
I didn't argue anymore. I asked one last question.
"The red rose, the baseball, and the beach house, did you give all those to Leila willingly?" I asked.
"Yes," Eric said.
He didn't even pause.
"She didn't take anything from me. I picked the rose, I gave her the baseball, and I had the deed changed," he said.
Eric paused for a moment.
He added, "When she first came to the stadium, she had no clue about the rules, but she'd stand up for me every time I swung the bat.
"She was like you used to be.
"I gave her what I never had the chance to give you."
"But that was my past," I said.
"I know," Eric replied.
Eric looked calm. "That's why everything I have now and everything I'll have is yours."
"Then what did you give me when you proposed?" I asked.
"Marriage, shares in the company, and everything I have, like my whole future," Eric replied.
He looked at me, genuinely confused.
"I've given you the most valuable things I have. Emilia, do you need her to have nothing at all to feel like you've won?" he asked.
Eric gently took my hand, placing the pen in my palm.
His hand felt so warm, like it always had been.
When he was twenty-five, he'd ended his career, and his old shoulder injury flared up again.
By then, Frank's romance storyline had failed for half a year.
Eric was the last love interest the system had set up for me.
He was also the last person who made me believe that, after all these years, maybe someone who'd known me for so long wouldn't always put me second.
That was the year we officially fell in love.
I kept him company in the locker room, holding a leaky ice pack against his shoulder.
The ice pack hissed quietly, and cold water ran down his broad shoulders and neck.
He was pale from the pain, but still managed to drape the only dry towel over my head.
"Don't catch a cold," he said.
I swatted his hand away, pretending to be annoyed.
"Your shoulder's in this bad shape, and you're still going to play tomorrow?" I asked.
"If I lose the game, I can always play again," he said.
He grinned and slipped the first family section ticket into my pocket.
"But if you get sick, what could I do to make it up to you?" he asked.
After that, every time he got a hit, stole second base, or rounded third base and headed home, the first person he'd look for was always me.
He always said, "Emilia, as long as you're watching me, I'll never lose."
Even at this moment, he remembered how my wrists always got cold.
He rubbed my hand to warm it up before handing me the pen.
"Sign it," he said. "Leila can't wait any longer."
I didn't sign it.
The last bit of patience in Eric's eyes slowly faded away.
He snapped, "The first time, you turned the entire proposal into a rescue mission.
"The second time, Frank fixed every camera along the coast to find you.
"The third time, William left the unveiling ceremony behind and rushed to save you."
He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low whisper.
"Will you only be satisfied if every one of us falls apart for you at least once?"
"You think I'm waiting around for you guys to come rescue me?" I shot back.
"Isn't that what you're doing?" Eric retorted.
His eyes fixed on me, as if he'd finally seen through everything.
He said, "We can buy the house back, have the wedding all over again, and renegotiate everything.
"But you keep putting your own life on the line, again and again, because you know that's the one thing I could never replace."
Eric said I wasn't trying to die.
I was making them pay a higher price every time they tried to hurt me.
If I died because of Leila, every time she walked into that beach house and picked up that baseball, she'd always feel like a murderer, like she was the one who ended my life.
"You don't even have to lay a finger on her," Eric said, his voice cold and deliberate. "If you die, she'll never let herself be happy again."
"Eric." My voice was soft as I cut him off. "I don't care if she's happy or not."
For the first time, Eric's face changed.
Right then, William pushed the door open and walked in.