I Disappeared After Ninety-Ninth Engagement

For our ninety-ninth engagement ceremony, Julian booked us a skydive. He said he wanted to tell me he loved me at thirty thousand feet.

My chute didn't open.

I got tangled in a big tree. I survived, yet suffered multiple fractures all over my body.

In the ward, I accidentally saw a message on the screen of our jump instructor's phone. It was addressed to Julian, and it carried a video. The video showed someone tampering with my chute before we boarded.

So the "accident" was Julian's idea?

I dragged myself out of bed on crutches, every bone in my body screaming, ready to confront him. I made it as far as the hallway. He was already there, talking to someone, and the moment I saw the other man, the floor tilted under me.

The man across from him was the same driver who'd hit me with his car the night before our last engagement. The hit-and-run that should have killed me.

"Mr. Veil, if you ever need me again, please reach out."

Julian's voice was flat, almost tired.

"There won't be a next time. I've tried everything I can think of. The engagement can't be postponed anymore."

"And the woman you actually love, sir?"

"I'll keep loving her," Julian said. "But Ada is the one I marry. Her mother gave my father a kidney. That's the debt. I have to pay it."

I stood there shaking, and the truth rearranged itself behind my eyes.

The camping trip he had planned, where I got lost and nearly died of hypothermia in the woods. That had been him.

The vitamin C he had handed me, the one that put me in the ICU. Him too.

And this time — the skydive, thirty thousand feet, “I want the sky to witness our love”. All of it.

Every single one of those accidents was him trying to delay the wedding.

But Julian, I thought, I could save you the trouble.

The next morning I accepted an offer that had been sitting in my inbox for weeks: an invitation from a world-class orchestra on the other side of the planet.

I sat in my hospital room shaking, my hands trembling on the grip of my crutch.

I didn't notice the visitors at first.

It wasn't until I tried to stand, needing the bathroom, that a girl in a white dress rushed forward to steady me.

"Ada," she said, "we're Professor Julian Veil's students. I'm Sheila. We heard about your accident. Let me help you."

I looked at her. Her face was soft and pretty, the kind of face people compared to a lily.

But her eyes were sharp and calculating. And her smile made the hair on my arms stand up.

I couldn't exactly refuse, so I let her walk me down the corridor. The second we reached the bathroom door, she leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear.

"Ada, want to make a little bet with me? Let's both fall down at the same time. We'll see who Professor cares about more."

Her stiletto came down on my broken leg.

Pain ripped through me. I went white, cold sweat sheeting down my back, and I crumpled onto the floor.

Sheila collapsed gracefully beside me and let out a theatrical wail that brought the other students and Julian running.

I was shaking so hard I couldn't speak.

Julian didn't even look at me. He scooped Sheila up and laid her on my hospital bed.

Sheila squeezed out two delicate tears.

"I heard Ada was hurt, so I came to visit. I was just trying to help her walk, and she said I had bad intentions. She pushed me. I think I twisted my ankle."

The other students turned to me with disgust written all over their faces.

"I heard the professor was forced into marrying her. She's actually this nasty? No wonder he's not happy about the wedding."

I didn't have the breath to defend myself. My lips were going blue from the pain. I gripped the doorframe and tried to drag myself upright. I fell twice.

I would not ask Julian for help.

Julian was busy massaging Sheila's ankle. He looked over at me, eyes cold.

"Ada. You're upset that I haven't visited. Fine. But don't take it out on my students. Sheila was being kind. How could you hurt her?"

Sheila patted Julian's hand, her expression more piteous than before.

"It's okay, Professor. Ada's a patient. She's just in a bad mood."

The more understanding she pretended to be, the more tender he became. The way he looked at her was full of love.

There was nothing complicated between them. Not like us. Between us there was always the debt, the favor he didn't want to repay, and it made every look he gave me feel like irritation.

Sheila whispered something in his ear.

Julian's brow tightened. He walked over and stood above me, looking down.

"I need to teach you a lesson. Otherwise, who knows how many more people you'll hurt using my name."

Then he helped Sheila up and led his entourage out of the room.

For the next three days, my surgical wound got infected, and no doctor came to change my dressings. Julian had pulled my admission file. I don't know how, but I was no longer officially a patient there.

Only one nurse felt sorry enough for me to sneak in some painkillers.

I cried as I dialed a number on my phone. "Is this Sonata World Orchestra? I'm accepting your invitation. I'm at Veil Private Hospital right now. Please — please come and save me."

Finally, an ambulance came. They wheeled me into emergency.

The last thing I thought before I lost consciousness:

[Julian doesn't deserve my love.]