Chapter 3

Coleton' s face was ashen when I saw him later that evening. He was sitting on the sofa, clutching a pillow to his stomach.

"Did you take the medicine I left?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral.

He nodded weakly. "Yeah. I... I had to get my stomach pumped."

The words hung in the air. He had gone to the hospital, endured an invasive procedure, all because he didn' t want to upset Charly by refusing the food she brought. The depth of his feeling for her was a physical blow.

I knelt to check the support brace on his ankle, a routine I had done a thousand times. As I adjusted the straps, the back of my hand brushed against the sharp edge of the coffee table, scraping the skin. A thin line of blood welled up. It was a small, stupid injury, but he didn' t even notice. His focus was entirely on his own discomfort.

I finished with the brace and stood up. He leaned into me, resting his head on my shoulder. His body was tense with pain.

"Just rub my temples," he murmured. "Like you used to."

I did as he asked, my fingers moving in slow, familiar circles. He sighed, his body relaxing against mine. For a moment, it was like old times. For a moment, I was his comfort, his safe place.

But the feeling was gone. I no longer craved this closeness. I felt nothing but a hollow ache.

He fell asleep, his breathing evening out. Carefully, I eased him back against the couch cushions, pulling a blanket over him.

Then, without a second glance, I walked out of the room.

The next day, he seemed to have forgotten the entire incident. He found me packing the last of my things into a suitcase.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a frown creasing his brow.

"Packing," I said simply.

He didn' t seem to process the finality of it. "Oh. Well, listen, I need a favor. Charly' s having a small gallery opening for her photography tonight. I need you to come with me."

I stared at him. "Why?"

"She just got back to the country, you know? She doesn' t have many friends here yet. I want to make sure she has a good turnout, make her feel supported." He looked at me, his expression earnest. "It would mean a lot to me."

I was just a prop. Someone to fill a seat and make his ex-girlfriend look popular. The irony was suffocating.

But I agreed. One last night. Then I would be gone.

At the gallery, Charly was in her element. She clung to Coleton' s arm, a radiant smile on her face as she introduced him to everyone. He looked proud, basking in her reflected glory. He bought every single one of her photographs, a grand gesture that had the small crowd whispering.

Charly drifted over to me, a champagne flute in her hand. "See?" she purred, her eyes glittering with malice. "He' s mine. He was always mine. You were just a temporary fix. A placeholder."

I didn' t say anything. There was nothing left to say.

Suddenly, a fire alarm blared, its shriek cutting through the polite chatter. A wisp of smoke curled from a back room. Panic erupted. People started pushing toward the exit.

In the chaos, someone shoved me, and I twisted my ankle, a sharp, searing pain shooting up my leg. I cried out, stumbling against a wall.

I looked for Coleton. He was just a few feet away. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second.

Then he turned and ran, pushing against the tide of people, back into the gallery.

"Charly!" he screamed, his voice raw with terror. "Charly, where are you?"

He found her huddled in a corner, coughing from the smoke. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her toward the exit, his face a mask of single-minded determination.

He ran right past me. He didn' t see me slumped against the wall, my face pale with pain. He didn' t see me at all.

As the smoke thickened, my vision started to blur. The pain in my ankle was excruciating. I tried to stand, but the leg wouldn' t hold my weight. I sank to the floor, my head swimming. The last thing I remembered was the sound of distant sirens.

I woke up in a hospital bed. Jaydan and Isaias were sitting by my side, their faces grim.

"He didn' t even ask about you, Arminda," Jaydan said, his voice low and angry. "The paramedics brought you in, and we called him. He said he was busy making sure Charly was okay. Her pristine dress got a little smudge of soot on it."

Isaias shook his head in disgust. "He' s lost his mind. This isn' t the man we know."

"You need to leave him," Jaydan said, his eyes pleading. "Please. You deserve so much better."

I looked down at the cast on my ankle. A clean break, the doctor had said.

"I am," I whispered. "I' m leaving."

The door to the hospital room swung open. Coleton stood there, his hair disheveled, his eyes wild.

"Leaving?" he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Where do you think you' re going?"