Chapter 3

Ethan didn't come back. He didn't call.

The roses he'd brought lay wilting on the small table in the garden, forgotten, much like his proposal, much like me.

Back in my temporary room, arranged by Marcus in a discreet hotel near the airport, I began to purge.

Every gift Ethan had ever given me, every photo, every memento of our ten years together, went into a trash bag.

Jewelry, clothes, silly trinkets from trips we'd taken, trips where he'd spent more time on the phone with Olivia than with me.

My fingers brushed against a small, worn teddy bear. It was meant for our baby. The one we lost.

A pang, sharp and deep, went through me. I clutched it for a moment, then tossed it into the bag with the rest.

That part of my life was over. That love, dead.

The next morning, I called Cole Dynamics.

"I need to speak to HR," I told the operator. "I'm resigning from my board seat and any other position I hold, effective immediately."

There was a stunned silence, then a flurry of transfers.

I'd been a silent partner for years, a name on paper. My active involvement had ended when Ethan's ambition outgrew his ethics, when Olivia's shadow fell permanently over our lives.

I'd stayed on, nominally, because a part of me still clung to the dream of what we'd built together, what I'd helped him create from my own inheritance and tireless work.

I'd poured my medical knowledge, my innovative ideas, into the early stages of Cole Dynamics, ideas Ethan later presented as his own.

No more.

The Head of HR, a woman I'd hired years ago, sounded flustered.

"Ms. Hayes! This is so sudden. Is everything alright? Mr. Cole hasn't mentioned anything."

"Mr. Cole doesn't need to mention anything," I said, my voice firm. "My decision is final. Please process the paperwork."

"But... the company needs you. Your insights..."

"Cole Dynamics has functioned without my active input for years," I cut her off gently. "I'm sure Ethan will manage."

I hung up before she could protest further.

Another tie severed. It felt good. Clean.

My phone rang almost immediately. Ethan.

"Amy? What's this I hear about you resigning? What's going on?" He sounded more annoyed than concerned.

"I'm getting married, Ethan," I said, my voice calm, almost serene.

A beat of silence. Then, he chuckled. "Oh, so you're finally ready to make it official? About time. I was wondering when you'd come around after yesterday. Don't worry about the Olivia thing, she was just being dramatic. The wedding will be perfect."

He still thought I was talking about him. The arrogance was breathtaking.

Before I could correct him, I heard Olivia's voice in the background, petulant and demanding.

"Ethan, darling, who are you talking to? The doctor said I need complete rest, and you promised to stay with me."

"Just a second, Liv," Ethan said, his voice instantly softening for her. Then back to me, hurried, "Look, Amy, I gotta go. Olivia needs me. We'll talk wedding plans later, okay?"

Click. He hung up.

I stared at my phone, a bitter smile playing on my lips.

A few minutes later, a notification popped up on my social media feed. A candid shot, clearly leaked by Olivia's PR.

Ethan, looking dotingly at Olivia as she lay in a hospital bed, holding her hand. The caption: "CEO Ethan Cole rushes to the side of beloved muse Olivia Vance after a health scare. True love conquers all!"

I closed my eyes, the image burning behind my lids.

Then, my phone buzzed again. An unknown number. I almost ignored it.

"Amy? It's Ben."

Ben Carter. Ethan's conscience, or what was left of it.

His voice was urgent, strained. "Amy, you need to listen to me. Ethan... he's in the hospital. Not as a visitor. He's been hurt."

I frowned. "What happened?"

"He was with Olivia. Some argument with a photographer trying to get a shot of her. Ethan stepped in, got shoved. Hit his head, hard. She just... left him there, Amy. Walked away once the cameras were gone."

The irony. Ethan, always Olivia's protector, abandoned by her when he was the one in need.

"The doctors are worried, Amy," Ben continued, his voice pleading. "It's a severe concussion, possible internal bleeding. They need to operate, but there are complications from his old injuries... from Yosemite. You're the only one who knows his full history, the experimental treatments you developed. You're the only one who can guide them, who might be able to save him."

My own head throbbed. My kidney, stolen for Olivia. My miscarriage, orchestrated by Olivia. And now Ethan, injured protecting Olivia, abandoned by Olivia.

And Ben wanted me to save him.

"He was fine when he hung up on me an hour ago to tend to Olivia," I said, my voice flat.

"Amy, please," Ben begged. "He's critical. Olivia won't even answer her phone. He could die."

I thought of the searing pain in my side, the empty space where my kidney used to be.

Despite everything, a flicker of my old self, the healer, stirred. Or maybe it was just a morbid curiosity to see him broken.

"Send me the details," I said, my voice devoid of emotion.

I went. Not for Ethan. Not anymore. But because Ben asked, and because, perhaps, a tiny part of me needed to see this through.

I consulted with the surgeons, my voice detached, professional, outlining the specific risks and protocols for Ethan's unique physiology, a result of my desperate, two-year effort to heal him once before.

Then, exhausted, I found an empty waiting room chair and drifted into a restless sleep.

I woke to voices. Ethan's, surprisingly strong, and Ben's.

They were in the room next door, the door slightly ajar. Eavesdropping seemed to be my new hobby.

"You see, Ben?" Ethan was saying, a note of triumph in his voice. "I told you she'd come. She can't stay away from me."

Ben sounded weary. "She came because I begged her, Ethan. Because you might have died. Olivia, on the other hand, didn't even bother to show up once she knew you were stable."

"Olivia was just scared," Ethan dismissed. "She's delicate. Amy understands. She always comes back. She loves me too much. She'll never leave me."

His confidence was absolute. His arrogance, boundless.

I stood outside that door, unseen, unheard.

He was right about one thing. He was favored. Favored by fortune, by my foolish love, by a world that seemed to bend to his whims.

But that favor had just run out.

I turned and walked away, every step taking me further from the man who believed I was his eternal safety net.

This time, I wasn't just leaving the hospital. I was leaving him. For good.