Resetting My Life from His Zero‑Love Game

A woman's choked sobs filtered through from the other end of the line. "Blake, I-I got away… They're at an abandoned factory in the western suburbs… They all ran off… I'm so scared…"

"Don't be scared! I'm coming right now!" Blake's voice changed instantly. The cold, ruthless edge from just now vanished, replaced by a tenderness I'd never heard from him before.

"Are you hurt? Find somewhere safe to hide first." He was in such a rush to leave that he even forgot to hang up. He let go of my wrist and bolted for the door.

The blade slipped out of my flesh as he yanked his hand away, ripping the wound further open. A fresh wave of agony tore through me.

I lay helplessly on the bed and watched his back disappear through the doorway.

The comments froze for a second before exploding once again.

[Seriously? He left just like that?]

[Joanna's wrist is still bleeding!]

[Couldn't he have at least called an ambulance?]

[Is this what his so-called love is like? He can just hurt someone else without hesitation for Keira's sake?]

[How did I ever think he was devoted…]

I lifted my uninjured hand with difficulty, trying to reach the phone on the nightstand. My fingertips were shaking. The phone was only inches away, but it might as well have been miles.

The blood kept flowing. A large portion of the sheets was already dark red from my blood, but the stain was spreading wider and wider.

I clenched my teeth and used every last bit of strength to drag myself forward an inch. My fingers finally brushed the edge of the phone.

The comments went wild again.

[Come on! You've got it!]

[Call 911! Hurry!]

[Don't pass out! Stay with us!]

I unlocked the phone screen, but my vision was so blurry I couldn't make out the numbers. All I could do was press 9, 1, 1 from memory and hit the call button.

The dial tone rang in my ear. Once, twice…

My breathing was getting weaker, and more dark spots were eating away at the edges of my vision.

Then, the call connected. "This is 911 Emergency…"

My lips parted. I tried to speak, but I only managed to let out a gasp.

"Hello? Can you hear me? What's your emergency?"

I wanted to say I was at a hotel, that I was bleeding, that I was about to die. But it felt like something was lodged in my throat. I couldn't make a sound.

"Hello? Hello?"

The voice on the other end sounded farther and farther away. The phone slipped from my hand and landed on the carpet with a dull thud.

The comments went crazy.

[No, don't!]

[Somebody help her!]

[Where are the hotel staff? Did no one hear the commotion?]

[Screw you, Blake Stone!]

My consciousness was unraveling. Amid my daze, I felt like I floated upwards. I saw myself curled up in a pool of blood, my face as white as paper.

Then, I saw the comments again.

[Blake just picked Keira up.]

[She threw herself into his arms, crying.]

[He's comforting her and telling her it's okay.]

[She kissed him.]

[They're making out.]

[And Joanna's just lying here, bleeding out.]

The comments paused for a few seconds. Then, they started to shift.

[Suddenly, I just feel… sick to my stomach.]

[What did Joanna do wrong? She just loved the wrong person.]

[She gave her all for six whole years, too.]

[What gives Blake the right to treat her like this?]

[If she dies, then he's a murderer.]

[I want to see him regret this.]

[I want to see him grovel at her feet and beg her to forgive him.]

[But she might not live long enough for that.]

[Is there seriously no one who can go to the hotel to save her? I can't watch this anymore.]

The countdown timer was still on and flickering faintly. 8 days, 9 hours, 1 minute. The game wasn't over yet, but it looked like this player was about to get kicked out early.