To Wait for the Next Ambulance

The doctor hesitated, then lowered her voice. "But... this is the only surgery that can save her... She's the only one seriously injured in that accident."

Alistair's voice turned cold. "Can't this hospital save a life without my authorization? Get out. For the next two days, unless it's about Bianca, do not disturb me for anything or anyone."

She seemed to want to argue, but in the end, she said nothing and turned to leave.

I huddled in the corner, blinking.

Something warm trickled from the corner of my eye.

It felt like blood, or maybe tears.

As I lay pinned beneath the steel, I had thought, Alistair... the wedding... just as you wished, it's canceled now.

For the next two days, Alistair barely left Bianca's side.

He catered to her every whim, taking care of her meticulously.

Occasionally, late at night, he would take out my dead tablet and trace his fingers absently over the black screen.

I knew what he was thinking.

The old me—the one hopelessly in love with him—had never let two days pass without contacting him.

Even after every fight and cold shoulder, I was always the one to give in and apologize within half a day.

This loss of control was irritating him.

He pressed his temples, which were throbbing with a dull ache, and opened a drawer. He saw the aromatherapy candle I had specially prepared for his migraines, sitting there untouched.

He immediately pressed the intercom button.

"Has anyone been looking for me these past few days?" he asked irritably.

His assistant replied, "Sir, you canceled all your appointments. No one has been looking for you."

This was his own order, but for some reason, a strange tightness constricted his chest.

He slammed the phone down.

He tossed his waterlogged phone and my dead tablet into a drawer and slammed it shut.

As he passed his assistant's office, he stopped, borrowed her phone, and sent me an email.

"Scarlett, your tantrum has a limit. It was a minor incident. You didn't even bleed, so what's the drama? And now you're pulling a disappearing act? Fine. If you have the nerve, don't ever contact me again."

I floated beside him, a bitter smile on my face.

My devotion was the source of his arrogance.

He was always so certain that I would never leave him.

But this time, I really couldn't contact him anymore.

When the sky cleared in the afternoon, Bianca dropped her act, reverting to her usual pitiful tears.

"Alistair, I really didn't know that my being so scared would make you make a decision like that. Let me go apologize to Scarlett. I'll do anything if she can forgive me."

Alistair answered distractedly, "It's fine. It looked scary, but you didn't have a scratch. You didn't do it on purpose, Scarlett will understand."

"But... but what if she wants to press charges and call the police on me?"

Alistair smiled and stroked her hair. "Don't worry, I already deleted that day's log from her tablet. This has nothing to do with you anymore."

Bianca happily nuzzled his hand, her eyes filled with adoration. "I knew you were the best to me, Alistair."

Meeting her fervent gaze, Alistair flinched as if burned and snatched his hand back.

"Bianca, I'm marrying Scarlett soon. If you want, you can still be my family. From now on, you'll call me Alistair, and Scarlett will be your sister-in-law. We'll take care of you together."

Bianca bit her lower lip, a flash of malice in her eyes, but she quickly nodded obediently.

Outside the room, two investors were chatting. "Mr. Sterling is so devoted. That woman was just a little scared, and he mobilized the entire hospital for her. They look so good together."

"I know, right? I heard the victim from that construction accident a couple of days ago had her organs crushed. Not a single family member by her side. Talk about two different worlds."

Alistair frowned, his heart giving an inexplicable, violent thud. He heard himself say, "The woman in the hospital room is not my fiancée."

He paused, then added, "My fiancée is Scarlett O'Connell of O'Connell Architecture."