Chapter 4

The process of changing the dressing was like slow torture.

The gauze tore at my flesh. I broke out in cold sweat, biting my lip hard until I tasted the strong metallic tang of blood.

The nurse wiped my sweat with pity, her eyes red: "Your fiancé is too heartless. How could he leave you alone at a time like this to go be with another woman?"

I said nothing, just managed a pale, transparent smile.

It didn't matter. I didn't need him anymore.

After the intense pain subsided, I leaned against the headboard and opened my social media. The first post was one Vanessa had just updated.

In the photo, she leaned delicately against Ethan's chest while he looked down cutting her steak, his eyes full of undisguised affection.

The caption read: "No matter how terrifying the darkness, as long as you're here, I'm not afraid of anything."

Below was her own comment: "Some things can't be stolen through desperate clinging. Those who are favored will always act without fear."

I stared at the screen, my stomach churning with spasms.

This was the "emotionally unstable" first love who had been "severely traumatized" according to Ethan.

That afternoon, Ethan returned. He pulled out an exquisite velvet box from his briefcase and tossed it onto my blanket.

"I've had my assistant transfer that hillside villa in the southern district into your name."

He pulled out a chair and sat down, his tone full of arrogant certainty: "Vanessa was badly traumatized this time. Her therapist says she needs long-term companionship. Let's postpone getting our license the day after tomorrow by a month."

He looked at me as if looking at a subordinate throwing a tantrum.

"That villa is worth fifty million. Consider it compensation. We've been together this long---you should know how to choose."

I looked at that velvet box and suddenly laughed.

"Fine." I looked at him calmly, my eyes completely emotionless. "I agree to postpone."

Ethan froze.

He seemed not to have expected me to agree so readily. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by satisfied approval.

"You really are sensible."

He reached out, wanting to pat my head like before.

I turned my head away, dodging his touch with disgust.

His hand froze in midair, his expression darkening slightly. Just as he was about to lose his temper, the hospital room door was suddenly pushed open.

Vanessa entered carrying an enormous fruit basket, wearing three-inch heels and perfect makeup.

"Ethan, I knew you'd be here."

She completely ignored me in the hospital bed, walking straight to Ethan and naturally linking her arm through his, pressing half her body against him.

"Miss Hartley, I heard you were seriously injured. I came specially to see you." Vanessa covered her mouth with an exaggerated look of shock and sympathy. "I'm so sorry. Ethan was too worried about me that day during the fire---he probably neglected you. You don't blame him, do you?"

Ethan frowned but his tone was gentle: "Vanessa, your body hasn't recovered yet. Why did you come out?"

"I was worried Miss Hartley might be angry at you because of me." Vanessa bit her lip pitifully, her eyes instantly reddening. "After all, it's almost time for you two to get your marriage license."

"Miss Sullivan's information is really out of date." I leaned against the pillow, watching her performance coldly. "Mr. Gray just postponed getting the license. He said he needs to leave time to properly accompany you, the psychological trauma patient."

Vanessa's eyes lit up, a gleam of triumph flashing through them before she put on a look of panic.

"Really? Ethan, that's too unfair to Miss Hartley. She's been with you for five years after all. Even without credit, she deserves recognition for her hard work. How can you postpone the wedding for me?"

Ethan patted her hand reassuringly: "I've already given her the villa in the southern district as compensation. She deserves it. You don't need to feel guilty."

Vanessa let out an exaggerated gasp.

"Oh my God, Miss Hartley, you really hit the jackpot."

She released Ethan and walked to my bedside, looking down at me from above, lowering her voice to a volume only we could hear as she sneered:

"But then again, for a gold-digger from the bottom like you, you could never earn this much money in your lifetime. Trading one month's postponement for fifty million---that's quite the deal. You might as well give up the position of Mrs. Gray now."

I looked at her utterly fake face, the rage in my heart no longer suppressible.