Chapter 2

Heavy rain lashed against the shattered windshield.

I was pinned tight in the driver’s seat, unable to move.

The impact of the airbag had left my chest incredibly tight, and the metallic taste of blood welled up in my throat.

The deepest cut was on my right hand. A triangular shard of glass was wedged deep into my skin.

Blood dripped from my fingertips.

It stained the steering wheel.

It ruined the fresh gel manicure I had specifically gotten for our engagement gala in three days.

The bright red against the pale skin made me feel physically sick.

Outside, a paramedic was pounding on my window, shouting something, but the roaring storm drowned out his voice.

I just stared at my phone.

The screen lit up with Ashton’s name.

My twenty-fourth call.

Finally, he picked up.

"Chloe Vance, are you seriously doing this right now?"

Ashton’s voice was dripping with annoyance, backed by the loud revving of his car engine.

"I told you, Serena's cat is lost. That construction site has no lights, and you know she has severe night blindness. What if something happens to her?"

I parted my lips, wanting to tell him I had been in a terrible crash.

I wanted to tell him I was bleeding out, that my hand might be permanently ruined.

But before I could make a sound, Serena’s weak whimpers came through the speaker.

"Ashton... I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have come looking for Pudding in the dark... Is Chloe mad at you? Please go back to her. It’s fine if I just freeze out here..."

Ashton’s breathing grew heavy with panic.

"Don't talk like that! I'm already here. I'm not leaving you."

He turned back to the phone, his voice as cold as ice.

"Chloe, I know you like to be strong, but do you really have to play the victim to compete with Serena right now? Even if you got into a crash, you’re not going to die. Go to the hospital yourself!"

Beep—

The line went dead.

The phone slipped from my weak fingers, falling into the puddle of water on the floor mat.

The screen went black.

Just like my heart, which had loved Ashton for six years, sinking into total darkness.

The firefighters finally pried the door open.

The freezing rain rushed in, making me shiver uncontrollably.

As they lifted me into the ambulance, the paramedic looked at my bleeding hand and frowned.

"Where is your emergency contact? You’re losing a lot of blood. We need someone to sign the consent forms!"

I stared at the sterile white lights on the ceiling and forced a faint smile.

"I don't have anyone."

"It's just me."

The paramedic blinked, startled, and didn't ask further.

The ambulance sped toward the hospital, sirens wailing.

I closed my eyes, his words echoing in my head: Even if you got into a crash, you’re not going to die.

He didn't know that the glass shard was less than a centimeter away from my main artery.

Just then, my phone—which the paramedic had retrieved for me—buzzed.

It was a text from Carter, Ashton’s assistant.

“Hey Chloe, Ashton asked me to let you know he’s helping Serena find her cat tonight and probably won't make it home. Get some rest.”

I didn't reply.

Instead, my eyes drifted to a new post on Instagram.

It was from Serena.

It was a photo of a dirty ginger cat snuggled in Ashton’s arms.

Ashton’s expensive white designer shirt was covered in mud, but he didn't seem to care. He was looking down, gently stroking the cat's head.

The caption read:

“Even when the world goes dark, he is always my light. 🤍”

Underneath, one of our mutual friends had commented:

“Ashton is so sweet to you. Chloe really takes a backseat, huh?”

Serena had replied with a playful emoji:

“Oh, Chloe is way too mature to be petty about a cat! 😘”

And Ashton had liked the post.

I stared at that little red heart.

The nurse came in with tweezers, preparing to pull the glass from my hand before the anesthesia was even administered.

"Chloe, this is going to hurt. Squeeze my hand if you need to."

I nodded.

The moment the glass was pulled out, blood gushed. The pain was so intense that my fingers clawed into the bedsheets, and my breath caught in my throat.

But compared to the agony in my chest, this physical pain was absolutely nothing.