Chapter 3

I woke up to the smell of antiseptic and the steady, rhythmic beep of a machine. My whole body ached with a deep, throbbing pain. I tried to open my eyes, but the light was too bright, a searing white that hurt my head.

A nurse' s voice, calm and gentle, cut through the fog. "Mr. O' Connell? Can you hear me? You' re in the hospital. You were in a serious car accident."

I blinked, my vision slowly coming into focus. I was in a private room. An IV was taped to my right hand. My left leg was in a massive cast, elevated on a pillow. My head was wrapped in bandages.

"What happened?" I rasped, my throat dry and raw.

"You have a severe concussion, three broken ribs, and a shattered tibia," the nurse explained. "You' re very lucky. The paramedics said if you' d been found even ten minutes later... well, you' re lucky. Someone performed emergency first aid at the scene before the ambulance arrived. They probably saved your life."

"Who?" I asked. Who would have stopped? Chloe had left me.

"We don' t know. They were gone by the time the ambulance got there. A passing doctor, maybe? We' re not sure."

The door opened and my assistant, Mark, rushed in. His face was pale with worry.

"Liam! Oh my god. I came as soon as I heard. Are you okay?"

"Mark," I said, relieved to see a friendly face. "Where' s... where' s Chloe?"

The question left a bitter taste in my mouth. I knew she had left me, but a small, stupid part of me hoped she' d had a change of heart, that she' d come to her senses and was waiting outside, crying with remorse.

Mark' s expression turned grim. He hesitated, then pulled out his phone.

"Liam, I don' t know how to tell you this. I tried calling her, her mother... no one answered. So I checked her social media. She posted this an hour ago."

He showed me the screen.

It was a picture of Chloe and Ethan. They were on a plane, smiling, holding champagne glasses. Ethan had his arm around her, and she was leaning into him, looking blissful. The caption read: "Surprise trip to Vegas to escape the stress! So lucky to have a man who knows how to treat a girl right! #Vegas #Love #Spoiled"

The timestamp was from two hours after the crash. While I was in surgery, fighting for my life.

I stared at the screen, my heart turning to a block of ice.

Mark scrolled down. There was another post. A video. It showed them in what looked like a high-roller suite at a casino. Chloe was laughing as Ethan showered her with casino chips. In the background, I could see my black credit card-the one with no limit, the one I gave her for "wedding emergencies" -on the table next to an ice bucket.

Then, a text message notification popped up on my own phone, which Mark had placed on the bedside table. It was from Chloe.

"Hey, so sorry to hear about the crash. You were driving so erratically. I got scared and had to get out. Ethan came to pick me up. He said I should get away for a bit to calm my nerves. Anyway, hope you feel better soon! Don' t worry about the wedding stuff, I' ll handle it when I get back. XOXO."

It was so casual. So dismissive. As if I had spilled a cup of coffee, not had my leg shattered because of her. She admitted she left. She admitted Ethan picked her up. She felt no remorse. None at all.

The full, horrifying truth finally settled in.

It wasn't just that she didn't love me. It was that she actively despised me. She saw me as an obstacle, a thing to be used and discarded.

My mind began to race, replaying the last five years, but with new, cynical eyes. Every sweet gesture, every loving whisper, every tearful plea for help was a calculated move in a long con.

The time she' d needed money for a "family emergency" that coincided perfectly with Ethan wanting a new motorcycle.

The "lost" heirloom diamond earrings I had replaced for her, which I later saw her mother, Susan, wearing.

Even my proposal. I had set up a romantic dinner on the beach. I got down on one knee. She had cried, saying yes, but now I remembered the first thing she did after I put the ring on her finger. She didn't kiss me. She took a picture of the ring and sent it to someone.

To Ethan. She was probably sending it to Ethan.

All my love, my devotion, my sacrifices... they were nothing to her. They were a joke. I wasn' t her partner. I was her provider. I wasn' t her fiancé. I was a stepping stone for her and her real love, Ethan.

My affection wasn't cherished; it was a resource to be exploited. A weakness she could press on whenever she needed something.

I looked at the cast on my leg, the bandages on my head. This was the result of my blindness. This was the price of my stupid, hopeful heart.

The beeping of the heart monitor sped up. A wave of nausea washed over me.

"Liam? Are you okay? Should I call the nurse?" Mark asked, his voice full of alarm.

I shook my head. "No, Mark. I' m fine."

But I wasn' t fine. I was broken. And for the first time, I understood that Chloe hadn' t just hurt me. She had tried to destroy me. And I had let her.