Chapter 4

Delma's entire body trembled. The image of Kobe's face, twisted with a rage he had never shown for her, was burned into her mind.

A hand seemed to clench around her heart, squeezing the air from her lungs. She finally understood the chasm between being loved and not being loved. It wasn't a gap; it was a universe. For Felicie, he would start a war. For Delma, he wouldn't even turn his head.

She sat there on the floor for a long time, the noise of the ballroom fading into a dull hum. Someone eventually helped her up, a kind-faced stranger who asked if she was okay.

Delma managed a tight smile. "I'm fine."

She walked out of the ballroom, her movements stiff and robotic. As she neared the valet station, she saw Kobe's car parked in a secluded corner of the lot. The interior light was on.

She heard their voices, muffled but clear enough.

"I'm so sorry, Fee," Kobe was saying, his voice rough with emotion. "I lost control."

"It's not your fault," Felicie whispered. "He was a horrible man. But your hand... and you drank for me. You know you're allergic."

"It's nothing," he dismissed, but his voice was strained.

"Why would you do that for me?" Felicie asked, her voice thick with unshed tears.

There was a long silence. Delma knew what that silence meant. It was an answer more powerful than any words. It meant 'Because it's you. Because I would do anything for you.'

Delma took a deep breath, the cold night air doing little to cool the fire in her chest. She walked toward the car.

She knocked on the window.

They sprang apart, their faces a mixture of guilt and surprise. Kobe rolled down the window.

"Get in," he said, his voice strained.

She opened the back door and slid in. The air in the car was thick with their intimacy.

"Driver, take us to the nearest pharmacy," Felicie instructed, her voice regaining its composure.

The car pulled up to a 24-hour pharmacy. Felicie got out, returning a few minutes later with a small bag. In the dim light of the car, Delma watched in the rearview mirror as Felicie gently took Kobe's bruised and scraped hand. She dabbed antiseptic on his knuckles with a tenderness that made Delma's stomach clench.

Delma looked away, staring out the window at the blurred city lights. She couldn't watch anymore.

The impact was sudden and violent. A screech of tires, a deafening crunch of metal. The world spun as the car was thrown sideways, crashing into a concrete barrier.

Delma was thrown against the door, her head hitting the window with a sickening thud. Pain exploded behind her eyes. Her vision swam, black spots dancing in front of her.

Through the haze, she saw Kobe move. He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, but he ignored it completely. He scrambled over the seat, his movements frantic.

"Felicie! Fee, are you okay? Talk to me!"

He cradled Felicie's head in his lap. She was unconscious.

"Kobe..." Delma managed to whisper, her voice weak. "Help... I think my leg is trapped."

He didn't hear her. Or he chose not to. He carefully maneuvered Felicie out of the wreckage, his focus absolute. He laid her on the pavement, away from the smoking car.

"Help me," Delma tried again, her voice barely a croak. The smell of gasoline was getting stronger.

Kobe didn't even look in her direction. He pulled out his phone, his hands shaking as he dialed for an ambulance, his eyes never leaving Felicie's pale face. He had saved the person who mattered. He had abandoned the one who didn't.

A chilling clarity cut through Delma's pain. He was going to leave her here to die.

The primal instinct for survival took over. She ignored the searing pain in her leg and the throbbing in her head. She clawed at the buckled door, her fingernails scraping against the twisted metal.

With a final, desperate surge of adrenaline, she managed to force the door open and pull herself out, collapsing onto the cold, wet asphalt.

She had just cleared the vehicle when it happened. A loud whoosh, followed by a massive explosion. The force of the blast threw her forward, and the world went black.

The last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was Kobe's back as he knelt over Felicie, shielding her from the blast, completely oblivious to the wife he had left to burn.

She woke up to the sterile, antiseptic smell of a hospital. A nurse was adjusting her IV drip.

"Easy now," the nurse said kindly. "You've had a nasty concussion and a broken leg. You're very lucky."

Delma tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced her back down.

"Your husband must have been so worried," the nurse chattered on. "The man in the next room, his fiancée was also in the accident. He hasn't left her side. He's been so devoted, refusing to rest even though he's injured too. It's so romantic."

Delma's blood ran cold. The man in the next room. His fiancée.

She knew. She knew without a doubt who the nurse was talking about.

Her heart, which she thought had been shattered beyond repair, felt a fresh, agonizing crack. It was as if her chest had been filled with ice water, the cold so intense it was hard to breathe. He was right next door, and he hadn't even asked if she was alive.