Chapter 2

Chandler POV:

The taxi sped through the familiar streets of Manhattan, each building a painful reminder of a life I' d tried to outrun. My heart hammered against my ribs, a chaotic drum solo of anger and anticipation. I was going to his office at Columbia, the place where he spent more time than anywhere else, the heart of his universe.

As we neared the university, a sudden blare of sirens cut through the city's hum. My eyes darted to the commotion. An ambulance, lights flashing, was pulling up to the science building. A knot tightened in my stomach. Julian's building.

Before I could process the surge of dread, a figure emerged from the entrance, his face etched with a fear I had never seen directed at me. Julian.

He wasn't looking at the building, or the ambulance. His gaze was fixed on a gurney being wheeled out, a small, fragile figure lying on it. Hayden.

My breath caught. Julian' s hands were shaking as he gripped the side of the gurney, his voice a desperate murmur I couldn' t quite make out. His shoulders were hunched, his jaw clenched, every muscle screaming pure, unadulterated terror. He looked utterly undone. It was a raw, visceral panic, a stark contrast to the indifferent composure he always maintained around me.

This wasn't quiet concern. This was terror for someone he loved, someone he couldn't bear to lose. A wave of ice water drenched me, colder than the London wind. This was the Julian I had longed for, the one capable of such profound emotion. And it wasn't for me.

The ambulance doors slammed shut. Julian, without a second thought, leapt into the back, disappearing from view. The sirens wailed again, fading into the distance as the ambulance sped away. The taxi driver, oblivious to my internal catastrophe, continued towards the curb.

"Wait!" I blurted out, my voice cracking. "Follow that ambulance!"

He looked at me in the rearview mirror, surprised. "Lady, I' m not allowed to-"

"I'll pay you double," I said, pulling out a wad of cash. "Triple. Just follow it."

He shrugged, clearly seeing the desperation in my eyes, and hit the gas. The chase was frantic, a blur of city blocks and flashing lights. Each turn brought me closer to a truth I desperately didn' t want to face.

We arrived at New York-Presbyterian Hospital. Julian was already inside, pacing the emergency room waiting area like a caged tiger. His face was pale, his usually immaculate hair mussed, his tie askew. He looked less like the renowned Dr. Burke and more like a terrified, heartbroken boy.

I watched him from a distance, hidden behind a potted plant near the reception desk. My heart ached with a familiar, searing pain. This was what I had dreamed of, prayed for: Julian, vulnerable, afraid, desperate. But it was all for someone else.

Minutes stretched into an eternity. A doctor finally approached Julian, who surged forward, his hands on the doctor' s arms, demanding answers. The doctor spoke softly, and I saw Julian' s shoulders visibly sag in relief. Hayden was going to be okay.

He ran a hand through his hair, a shaky breath escaping his lips. The tension slowly drained from his body, leaving him looking utterly exhausted. Relief, pure and unadulterated, washed over his face. He actually smiled slightly, a ghost of the tender smile from the photo. My heart twisted.

I needed to know more. I approached the reception desk, feigning concern. "Excuse me, I'm here for Hayden Wilkerson. How is she doing?"

The nurse looked up, her expression tired. "She's stable. Dr. Burke is with her now."

"Dr. Burke?" I asked, as if surprised. "Is he... family?"

The nurse gave me a knowing look. "He's been here for her since day one, sweetie. Ever since her sister passed. He practically adopted her."

My blood ran cold. Her sister. Kathryne. The pieces clicked into place, forming a horrifying picture. Hayden wasn't just a dead ringer for Kathryne; she was Kathryne' s sister. Julian wasn' t just replacing his lost love; he was protecting her family, perhaps even trying to atone for Kathryne' s death through her sibling. The revelation hit me like a physical blow, a fresh wave of nausea rising in my throat. My suspicion of a replacement was confirmed, but the truth was even more twisted, more gut-wrenching than I could have imagined.

My head spun. I stumbled back, leaning against the cold wall. It clicked. The K.W. Initiative. Katherine Wilkerson. It wasn't just research. It was a shrine, a legacy. He had funded it for her. For Hayden. My $5 million donation, Charlton's carefully orchestrated engagement – it wasn't for us. It was for her. To save Hayden.

I felt a fresh surge of anger, hotter and more potent than before. Not just anger at Julian, but at myself. For being so blind, so desperate, so thoroughly used.

Julian emerged from the room moments later, his face still pale but softened with relief. He saw me then. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing, the warmth instantly replaced by that familiar, cold detachment.

"Chandler," he said, his voice flat, devoid of surprise or welcome. "What are you doing here?"

Before I could answer, a weak voice called from the doorway. "Julian?"

Hayden. She was propped up in the hospital bed, looking fragile and ethereal, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow. Her eyes, wide and innocent, fixed on Julian. "You came."

Julian immediately turned back to her, his harsh expression melting into concern. He walked back to her bedside, taking her hand gently.

"Of course I came, Hayden," he said, his voice impossibly soft. "Are you feeling better?"

"A little," she whispered, her eyes fluttering. She glanced at me, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze before she focused back on Julian. "I was so worried. About the academic emergency."

My jaw dropped. Academic emergency? He had left me a note about a lab emergency the morning after our stolen night. Now this. He was always running to someone else' s crisis.

Hayden squeezed Julian's hand. "They said... they said my heart medication had a bad reaction. The one you paid for." She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "You saved me, Julian. Again. Just like you saved me years ago after Kathryne..." Her voice trailed off, a picture of delicate sorrow.

Julian's hand tightened on hers. He looked at her with an intense, almost painful remorse. "Hayden, don't worry about that now. Just rest."

She blinked, then looked directly at me, a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips. "I'm so sorry, Chandler. I know how much Julian sacrificed for me. This engagement... it must be so hard on you, knowing he did it all for me, for Kathryne."

The words were a calculated strike, aimed directly at my jugular. She knew. She knew about the money, about Charlton' s deal, about the true nature of our engagement. She was a viper masquerading as a fragile flower.

Julian looked at me, then back at Hayden, his expression unreadable. He didn't deny it. He didn't defend me. He simply stood there, a silent confirmation of her cruel words.

A cold, hard knot formed in my stomach. The $5 million. The "donation." It wasn' t for his research in general. It was specifically for Hayden' s life-saving heart surgery, a condition exacerbated by her sister Kathryne' s death. My brother Charlton, in his misguided attempt to secure my happiness, had essentially bought Julian' s protection for Hayden. I was just the unfortunate collateral damage.

I felt a surge of incandescent rage, so hot it nearly choked me. I had been a pawn, a placeholder, a convenient shield for his guilt. My love, my desperation, my entire being had been reduced to a transaction.

I finally understood. My infatuation had been crushed long ago by his coldness. Now, the bitter truth revealed itself like a festering wound. He wasn't just haunted by Kathryne; he was consumed by his guilt, and Hayden was the living embodiment of his penance. And I? I was nothing but a transactional obligation.

"Chandler?" Julian said, his voice sharp now, seeing the raw emotion on my face.

I looked at him, truly looked at him, and saw not the man I loved, but a stranger. A man blinded by guilt and grief, manipulating those around him, even if unintentionally. I saw a man who had allowed me to believe in a lie, who had let me humiliate myself ninety-nine times, and then a hundredth, all to protect a ghost and her living shadow.

My jaw set. My eyes, I knew, were blazing. "You know what, Julian?" I said, my voice dangerously calm, the words dripping with ice. "I regret every single second I wasted loving you. Every single one."

His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise, perhaps even hurt, crossing his face before he masked it again.

"It's over, Julian," I declared, my voice gaining strength, resonating with a newfound resolve. "Our engagement. This farce. It's done."

I turned on my heel, walking away from him, from Hayden, from the hospital, from the wreckage of my supposed love story. I didn't look back, not even when I heard Julian call my name, a faint, desperate sound that was quickly swallowed by the sterile hospital air. I just kept walking, one foot in front of the other, towards an uncertain future, but one finally free of him.