Chapter 5

The breathing on the other end stopped instantly.

"What... what are you talking about?"

I looked down at the floor.

"The boutique manager let it slip. The waist measurement of that gown was 24 inches."

"My waist is 26 inches."

"24 inches is Chloe’s size."

A dead silence stretched between us.

I could hear Harvey’s sharp, panicked intake of breath.

"Maya, let me explain..."

"Save it," I cut him off. "Since the dress was made for her anyway, consider the shredded pieces my early wedding gift to her."

"Maya!" Harvey panicked. "That dress was Chloe’s dream!"

"She is incredibly sick right now! I just wanted her to wear her dream dress once before she goes into treatment! It was just to fulfill her wish!"

"Are you really so heartless that you'd deny a dying girl's last wish?!"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"Yes. In fact, I’d gladly watch her burn."

"You are insane!" Harvey roared. "Your captain called me earlier and said you were injured in some accident! Maya, you’re playing the victim card again, and now you’re acting like a saint!"

"Do you honestly think that throwing a breakup tantrum will make me crawl back to you?"

'Playing the victim.' He said it again.

I touched the bandage on my back, which was now completely soaked with fresh blood.

"Harvey Williams," I said his name, my voice eerily calm. "You think I'm playing the victim?"

"Why don't you check the local news?"

"A multi-car pileup on the mountain highway. A female rescue doctor was crushed by a boulder while protecting a patient."

"Oh, and enjoy your ski trip in Switzerland with Chloe."

"I didn't know someone with severe clinical depression could ski in the Alps."

"I just hope she doesn't break her neck on the slopes."

"Maya! How dare you curse her—"

I hung up before he could finish.

Then, I blocked his number.

I deleted him from WhatsApp, Snapchat, Instagram, and every other platform. I erased him from my life.

Once done, I threw my phone into the trash can.

I grabbed my worn-out canvas bag and walked to the door.

I took one last look at the "home" I had carefully decorated over the past three years.

The cushions on the sofa were hand-stitched by me.

The plants on the balcony were nurtured by me.

Even the crystal chandelier was wiped clean, crystal by crystal, by my own hands.

Now, it all looked like a giant, pathetic joke.

I opened the door.

Outside, the storm was still howling, blowing rain onto my face.

I didn't take an umbrella. I just stepped out into the dark, wet night.

The cold rain hit my wound, making my entire body shudder in pain.

But my spine was perfectly straight.

Suddenly, a black Maybach screeched to a halt in front of the building.

The door opened, and Harvey’s assistant, Carter, ran out holding an umbrella, looking panicked.

"Miss Maya! Where are you going?"

Carter gasped when he saw how soaked and pale I was.

Then, his eyes fell on my back, and he let out a horrified shriek.

"Oh my god! Miss Maya, your back... it's covered in blood!"

I gave him a cold, empty look. "Are you here to pick up Harvey’s stuff?"

Carter nodded nervously. "Mr. Williams said... he said Miss Chloe forgot her antidepressants. He asked me to retrieve them. He also said..."

"What did he say?"

"He said... he said you should stop standing in the rain to play the victim. He said he’ll give you an explanation when he gets back from Switzerland."

I let out a soft laugh, the first genuine smile on my face all night.

"An explanation?"

I adjusted the strap of my bloody canvas bag on my shoulder.

"Go tell Harvey."

"I don't need his explanations anymore."

"He’s free."