Chapter 3

At eleven that night, I woke up to excruciating abdominal pain.

Cold sweat poured off me, leaving me entirely powerless.

Brandon, who should have been home resting, was nowhere to be found.

Curled in agony, I had to dial 911 myself.

"Hello, I have severe acute abdominal pain. I can't move. My address is 802 Grandview Court, Building 3."

The paramedics arrived quickly. Unable to walk, I was carried down the stairs on a stretcher.

At the hospital, the emergency room lights were blindingly white.

The triage nurse took my vitals while asking,

"Where’s your emergency contact? Are you here alone?"

"I'll call him."

I dialed Brandon’s number. It rang six times before he picked up.

His voice dripped with irritation. "Do you know what time it is? Why are you calling?"

"I'm in the ER. Acute gastroenteritis. Can you come down here?"

The line paused for two seconds, and then Vanessa’s voice drifted through the receiver:

"Brandon, if we don't fix this pipe right now, the entire living room is going to flood!"

Brandon’s tone changed instantly, turning urgent and tender.

"Hang on, I'm right there."

Then he said to me, "A pipe burst at Vanessa’s place. I need to help her sort it out."

"Handle it yourself for now. I'll send you some money."

"Brandon, I am in the hospital."

"There are nurses at the hospital. It's not like you're dying. Take care of yourself."

He hung up.

Ten seconds later, a notification popped up on my phone: a Venmo transfer of $500.

I placed my phone facedown on the gurney and stared at the ceiling for a long time.

The nurse returned, handing me a clipboard of consent forms.

"Why is the next-of-kin line blank? Where’s your husband?"

"I'm not married."

The nurse gave me a look, didn't ask further, and took the paperwork away.

I registered, paid the copay, had my blood drawn, and hooked myself up to the IV alone.

When the needle went into the back of my hand, the nurse mentioned my veins were fragile; she had to poke twice to get it in.

I sat on the plastic chair in the emergency bay, my left hand holding the IV tube, my right hand clutching my stomach. Beside me was an elderly woman whose husband was gently peeling an orange for her.

Forty minutes into the IV drip, Jason pushed the door open.

He was holding a grocery bag of fruit, plopped down beside me, and crossed his legs.

"Brandon asked me to check on you. How are you holding up?"

"Why are you here?"

"Brandon couldn't get away. The burst pipe at Vanessa’s place flooded the floors pretty badly. He has to help clean it up."

I offered a faint smile and said nothing.

Seeing my silence, Jason leaned in and lowered his voice.

"Look, Chloe, not to be harsh, but don't use getting sick to test Brandon."

"He’s stressed out of his mind with wedding prep lately, and Vanessa just got back. Cut him some slack."

I lifted my head and looked straight into his eyes.

"Jason, I called 911 because acute gastroenteritis had me paralyzed on the floor. And you think I'm testing him?"

Jason shrunk under my gaze, laughing nervously.

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just that Brandon really has his hands full."

"Then do me a favor and tell him not to bother coming."

Jason blinked, clearly caught off guard by my bluntness. After sitting awkwardly for a few more minutes, he left.

Ten minutes after he was gone, the drip finished.

I had the nurse remove the needle. When I stood up, my legs were still shaking.

Stepping out of the hospital entrance, the cold night air hit my lungs, clearing my head completely.

I opened Venmo and refunded the $500 straight back to Brandon’s account.

Then, I called our old landlord.

"Hi, Brenda. Our lease on the old apartment still has three months left, right?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"I'm breaking the lease. I'll pay whatever penalty is in the agreement, and I'll have the place empty by tonight."

Brenda sounded surprised. "So sudden? You're not keeping it?"

"No. I'm moving everything out tonight."

Hanging up, I booked a late-night moving van and headed to the old apartment.

Brandon and I had rented that place together two years ago.

After moving to Grandview Court, the unit sat vacant until Brandon offered it to Vanessa.

Tonight, I was taking back every single thing that belonged to me.

Two hours later, every box was packed and loaded.

When Brenda arrived to collect the keys, she looked at the hollowed-out rooms with a twinge of pity.

"Honey, are you sure you’ve thought this through?"

"Completely."

I handed her the keys and climbed into the passenger seat of the moving truck with the final box.

Sitting in the truck, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from Brandon: *Vanessa’s place is taken care of. How are you? Feeling any better?*

I looked at the message. I didn't reply.

I simply locked the screen.