Chapter 4

Bright red blood began to drip onto the white tiles, pooling into a small puddle.

My forehead had slammed against the sharp edge of the wall cabinet. My vision went blurry, and Tristan's face seemed to split into multiple overlapping shadows.

Tristan's lips parted, a flash of pure guilt washing over his face.

But his hands remained firmly wrapped around Sienna.

I don't know how long I lay there before I managed to crawl out of the bathroom and onto the living room sofa.

By the time Tristan came out of the bedroom, I was silently dabbing antiseptic on my cut.

He walked over quickly, reaching out to take the cotton swab from my hand.

I tilted my head, quietly dodging his touch.

Tristan's hand froze in mid-air. He looked at me with a complicated expression.

"I didn't mean to shove you that hard," he muttered, lowering his hand with a sigh. "I know your personality. You wouldn't have pushed her."

"But she doesn't have much time left, Chloe. Just go along with it and apologize to her, please?"

My hand froze. I looked at Tristan, feeling as if I was seeing him for the very first time.

"Tristan," I said, taking a deep breath.

"What if I told you Sienna doesn't have cancer?"

Tristan stiffened. Then, his gaze drifted away, his expression hardening.

"Do you have to be this petty?"

I turned my head away, refusing to say another word.

Tristan stood there in silence for a moment before turning and walking into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he placed a steaming bowl of oatmeal in front of me.

"Eat something. We're going to take Sienna to her wedding photoshoot later."

"After all, this might be the last time the three of us are together."

I stared at the oatmeal, a wave of bitter nostalgia washing over me.

During our freshman year of college, I got terribly sick. The doctors couldn't find the cause.

My parents were stuck abroad on business, so Sienna used her family's connections to get me the best specialists.

Tristan had brought me to his place to take care of me, ordering his chefs to make whatever I wanted.

But back then, I threw up everything I ate. I was practically skin and bones.

In a panic, Tristan, who had never stepped foot in a kitchen in his life, spent an entire day researching recipes until he managed to make a bowl of oatmeal that wasn't burnt.

Back then, I was so touched by that simple bowl of oatmeal that I cried, promising myself I would stay by his side forever.

But my ten years of devotion had only earned me a double betrayal.

"I'm not going," I said quietly.

Tristan's face darkened. "Chloe..."

"You two are legally married. What would I be doing there? Giving people a free show?"

My voice was incredibly calm. Even I was surprised by how numb I felt.

I guess once you're completely drained of love, there's no room left for anger.

"Tristan, I'm ready! Can we go now?"

Sienna stepped out of the bedroom, wearing a beautiful white dress, her eyes shining with excitement.

Tristan stared at me for one last long second before turning around and walking out the door with Sienna.

The penthouse fell silent.

I reached up to touch my forehead. My skin felt burning hot.

I couldn't stay here any longer.

I swallowed a couple of fever reducers, grabbed my suitcase, and began packing my things.

My head throbbed, and my breath felt like fire, but I didn't stop.

I had to leave before they came back.

"Chloe? Are you leaving?"

Sienna's voice suddenly echoed behind me.

I kept packing, not even bothering to look back.

"Chloe, can you hand me my perfume from the vanity? I forgot to pack it," Sienna asked, her voice dripping with sweet innocence.

"Don't you have hands?" I replied coldly.

Sienna gasped softly, a venomous look flashing across her face.

I walked into the guest bedroom to grab my last jacket. Just as I turned around, a heavy mist of perfume was sprayed directly into my face.

Sienna stood at the doorway, pressing the nozzle repeatedly, targeting my face.

My lungs instantly seized. Every breath became a sharp, wheezing battle.

"Oh dear, Chloe. What's wrong? You look so pale," Sienna mocked, tossing the perfume bottle into the trash can. The sweet smile on her face vanished, replaced by a cold sneer.

I collapsed onto my knees, clutching my throat. My airway felt like it was being strangled by a wire. I could only make high-pitched, desperate wheezing sounds.

Suddenly, the front door burst open, and Tristan's panicked voice echoed through the apartment.

"Chloe! Are you having an asthma attack?!"