The day before our engagement party, I was in a multi-car pileup. So was Rosamund Gilbert, Owen Matthews's so-called "girl best friend."
I was lying in the ER, drenched in my own blood, when a WhatsApp message from Owen lit up my screen：
【Rosie got scared by all the blood and fainted. I need to stay with her while she gets her IV.】
【She hasn't been doing well lately, and she can't handle any more stress. Let's cancel the engagement party tomorrow.】
【Figure out something to tell both families. Just make sure it doesn't upset Rosie……Tell them you changed your mind for now.】
I stared at the forms the doctor had just placed in front of me. An induced-labor consent form. A critical-condition notice.
Through the blinding pain tearing through my abdomen, I typed back a single word：
【Fine.】
This wedding was one I truly wouldn't live to see.
Almost instantly, Rosamund posted on Instagram.
The photo showed a bowl of peeled shrimp, a hand wearing an engagement ring, and the backdrop of a private hospital suite.
The caption read：
【He told me that no matter what happens, I'll always be his first priority.】
In the comments, Owen's friends were falling over themselves with likes, calling him the perfect man.
I let out a bitter laugh, pressed my hand against my now-flat stomach, and liked the post.
Then I left a comment：【Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness!】
……
“Ms. Summers, is your family still not here?”
A nurse stood at the foot of my bed, holding a stack of forms. There was pity in her eyes.
“The anesthesia from the procedure is wearing off, and you're still in the critical observation window.”
“These forms have to be signed by a family member.”
I stared up at the harsh fluorescent light on the ceiling. My vision blurred.
“There's no family.”
“I'll sign them myself.”
I braced my half-numb body and tried to sit up.
A tearing pain ripped through my abdomen.
I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth.
The nurse grabbed me before I could fall back.
“Don't move.”
“You lost so much blood during the surgery, we almost didn't bring you back.”
She handed me the pen and pointed to the blank lines on the forms.
“Here. And here.”
I gripped the pen.
My fingers wouldn't stop shaking.
The tip touched the paper and left a crooked trail of ink.
【Induced-Labor Consent Form】.
【Critical-Condition Notice】.
【Discharge Risk Acknowledgment】.
I finished writing my name on each one.
My phone buzzed against the pillow.
Owen's name flashed across the screen.
I answered.
“Did you smooth things over with both families yet?”
Owen's voice came through the speaker.
“Not yet,” I said.
“What do you mean, not yet?”
A note of irritation crept into his voice.
“Rosie just saw a text from my mom and thought we were fighting. She panicked so hard she ripped the IV right out of her hand.”
“She's terrified of blood. The second she saw it on the back of her hand, she started crying again.”
“Can you just handle this? Get it under control?”
“It's just the back of her hand bleeding, right?” I asked.
There was a pause on the other end. When Owen spoke again, his voice had dropped.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Roberta Summers, are you getting jealous again?”
“It was a chaotic crash scene. Rosie's a girl. Of course she was terrified.”
“You've always been so independent. Don't pick now to start making a scene, alright?”
Independent.
I closed my eyes.
Because I was independent, I deserved to lie in the ER alone.
Deserved to hear him comforting another frightened woman while I clawed my way back from the edge of death.
“Owen.”
“Which hospital are you at?”
“City Central. Why?”
“No reason.”
I was at City Central too.
He was in the private suite on the top floor. I was in the ER on the first.
