Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound repeats as I blink awake. At first, everything is blurry—until machines and white walls slowly come into focus.
Hospital.
I'm lying in a hospital bed.
I try to remember what happened, and the moment with Jake crashes back into me. Suffocating.
"Lavina. You're awake."
That's when I notice Jake on the couch beside the bed. I force myself to sit up. He stands immediately and walks over.
"How are you feeling?" he asks.
"What happened?"
He shoves his hands into his pockets. "You fainted. The doctor said you've been overworking your body and mind."
I can't take my eyes off him. His words from earlier loop endlessly in my head.
"Why did you say I'm nothing without you?"
The question slips out.
He rolls his eyes, like the answer should be obvious.
Tears burn in my eyes. I've been greedy—working endlessly in someone else's story, forgetting who I am.
"You should rest, Lavina," he says. "There are projects coming up. My dad needs us to handle them."
He taps my arm and turns to leave.
I snort. "He wants you to handle them—not us. You used the fact that I loved you to drain me. And after seven—" my throat tightens, "—no, eight years, you say I'm nothing without you. I couldn't even work because I was doing deep research for you—"
"Okay, fine. I'm sorry," he grunts without turning back. "Get some rest. You'll be less grumpy tomorrow."
He opens the door, ready to leave—just like that.
His friends were partners. I was just an assistant, paid with kisses and hugs.
I grip the bedsheets, wiping my tears with the edge of my gown.
"You dumped me, Jake. We're over."
He freezes.
Then he slams the door shut.
The bang rattles through my bones—and suddenly I'm not here anymore.
Broken tables. Shattered frames. Windows blown out.
Blood dripping down my arms as I begged him to calm down.
All because I didn't double-check the names.
He mistook the CEO for the manager.
My fault.
I'm dragged back to the present when hands clamp around my ankle.
I gasp.
"Are you talking back to me now, Lavina?"
His grip tightens. I shake my head rapidly.
"No. I'm not. I'm not," I whisper, wincing as his nails dig into my skin. "Please stop. You're hurting me."
He doesn't listen.
I pull, but he's stronger. My eyes land on a small flower pot near the head of the bed. I grab it and smash it against his head.
He stumbles back with a groan.
"I'm going to kill you," he mutters.
The rage in his eyes sends me scrambling out of bed. I rush for the door, yank it open, and run.
Tears blur my vision.
He breaks things—and I get hurt trying to fix him—but he has never blamed himself for hurting me.
The hallway is empty. VIP ward.
"Lavina."
The door behind me bursts open.
I've only seen him this mad once before—at the lake house, when he beat the butcher nearly to death. I had blamed the man for serving mango, knowing Jake was allergic—even though the butcher swore it was a mistake.
I bolt down the stairs.
Why is it so empty? This is a hospital. Where is everyone?
"Lavina!" he yells.
Fear coils so tight I nearly trip on the last steps.
Relief crashes into me when I see people on the first floor. He wouldn't hurt me here.
I glance back. He's still coming.
"Oh my goodness, miss! You can't leave—you're still under observation!" a nurse shouts.
I won't stop.
I don't even have a purse. How long can I outrun him?
A motorcycle hums nearby.
My eyes land on the figure sitting astride it.
Klint.
Jake pushes the hospital door open.
"Klint!" I wave frantically.
His movement freezes under the helmet.
I don't care how insane I look in a hospital gown.
I hop onto the bike and wrap my arms around his waist.
"Please. Go. Just go."
The engine roars to life.
Jake stares in shock. Two nurses rush outside.
Tears finally spill freely.
"Thank you."
They say people change. Yes. Time passes, and we have to change. For the better for some people—but for me… I've watched my mom change after my dad died. From someone happy to someone sad, because she was hung up on making… I had promised her I would be happy, write a story different from hers. I guess I failed.
I was happy and free before Jake. I still remember, though vaguely. I dreamt of a lot of things—but it disappeared, and my world kept shrinking, shrinking, until all that remained whispered one name: Jake.
Love was the justification. As long as we ended up together, it was worth it. But now… a book I have refused to open flips its pages, and the cruel words stare at me. I've been used and dumped. Unwanted.
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to feel the breeze against my face, the numbness of my arms wrapped around Klint—but still, the memories force themselves through.
The way Jake used to look at me, touch my hair, watch me like I was the moon. At that hospital… I saw him. The man his staff feared. The madman his friends teased. I saw that rage, that fire. What would have happened if he had caught me?
Shivers travel down my arms. I don't want to think about that. I force my head off Klint's shoulder. He finally slows and stops. The neighborhood stretches around us—empty, endless.
He must have been riding for so long. I hop off, dazed by the ride, but Klint is quick to steady me.
"Careful."
I nod, but I kind of love the feeling—it's satisfyingly light.
He takes off his helmet, and I shrink in embarrassment. Running out of a hospital like a madwoman and hopping on his bike…
"I'm sorry!" I mutter.
He sighs. "I asked you—me and him—who would make a better husband. You couldn't answer. Do you like toxic men?"
Of everything I expected Klint to say… I can't believe he just blurted that out. I shake my head. "He wasn't always like that." The words slip out before I can even make sense of them.
Klint exhales sharply, annoyance etched on his face. "You need help. Someone to talk to. This isn't healthy."
"You don't know anything about me, Klint." My voice is teary. I turn away, scared of breaking down. Exhaustion washes over me.
He reaches out, and I slap his hands away. "You want to mock me, huh? I spent years loving someone and pretending that everything was okay."
"Lavina…"
"Maybe I saw the signs. I just refused to interpret them because I didn't want to be the one to break things off."
"No, Lavina. You're just scared of starting over, and it's okay."