Chapter 8

Allison's long-awaited farewell performance fell through in the end.

She suffered a car crash and landed in the hospital.

She picked up multiple soft tissue bruises, a broken right leg, and a mild concussion. She lay in bed unable to move.

When she woke, she found Braydon seated by her bed. Worry etched his face.

"Allison, you finally came to." He gripped her hand tight. His eyes rimmed red. "You have no idea how I dragged through these past two days."

Allison pulled her hand free. She asked softly. "Who hit me? Did they catch him?"

Braydon's face turned awkward in a flash.

Just then, Madison pushed through the door. She carried a bowl of soup and cut in with a beaming smile. "Allison, I meant to tell you about that. The young guy who hit you just got his license. His family struggles too. It truly was no accident on purpose. We signed the forgiveness letter for you already."

As she spoke, she lifted the spoon to Allison's lips. "Here, sip some soup to build your strength."

Allison spotted the oil slick on the surface and bone bits at the bowl's bottom. She knew at once this came from someone else's leftovers.

Likely the tonic soup meant for that pregnant woman.

Rage and hurt flooded her chest in an instant. Yet right now she could barely roll over. She dared not push back hard.

She turned her head away. She said lightly. "I am tired. I want to be alone."

Madison kept her fake smile plastered on. "Fine. Rest up. We will go now."

Braydon lingered reluctant. Madison dragged him out of the room by force though.

Before the door shut, Allison caught Madison's murmur. "She did not die anyway. What is there to fuss over?"

Those words stabbed like a knife into her heart. Even her ribs ached with it.

She itched to leave Eldoria. The farther from the Saunders family, the better.

Three days later, she managed to stand on one foot. She dialed that number. "Mr. Fuller, I want to head to Norland to recover. Can you set it up?"

A low chuckle came from the other end. "I waited for those words, my figure skating queen."

She hung up just as Braydon walked in. "Allison, does it still hurt?"

He leaned down. He reached to stroke her hair. His tone brimmed with ache. "Do not worry. I called in the top orthopedic specialist. You will heal good as new."

Allison looked into his teary eyes. She felt only bitter irony.

He kept saying he loved her, pitied her.

Yet last night, pain jolted her awake in the dark. She overheard him on the balcony phone with Kathleen.

That very call revealed the driver who hit her went by Cade Murphy. Kathleen's own brother.

The Saunders rushed to sign forgiveness because they feared jail time for Cade would disrupt Kathleen's pregnancy.

What chilled her most came when Braydon soothed the phone line tender. "Allison just took a minor hit. Nothing serious. You focus on resting now. Do not dwell."

He knew better than anyone what a leg meant to a figure skater.

In his words though, it turned to a mere scratch.

Nausea welled up strong.

Allison turned her head. She dodged his touch.

"Can you leave?" Her face stayed distant cold. "I do not want to see you."

Braydon's hand dangled awkward in the air. He stared at her stunned. "Allison, did you find out something?"

Before he finished, Madison barged in uninvited. Her smile stayed fixed. "Braydon, a relative landed in the hospital too. Upstairs. Come with me to check on them. Do not slack on manners."

Allison sneered inside.

What relative. Just a rush to visit the bearer of their prized grandson.

Her face paled. She shut her eyes. She looked away from them.

Braydon hesitated a beat. In the end he murmured yeah and trailed Madison from the room.

Soon after he left, a helicopter touched down on the hospital roof pad.

Allison sat in a wheelchair. Bodyguards escorted her aboard.

Out the window, city lights faded one by one.

She whispered in her mind. "Goodbye, Braydon."

His betrayal, his drifting, his wounds all turned to yesterday.

From now on, Allison answered only to herself.

This farewell would not slip quiet though.

She ruffled her long hair wild. She smeared lipstick across her cheek in fake blood streaks. Then she raised her phone slow. She hit record.

Amid the engine roar, she cracked a broken smile at the lens.

This divorce gift suited Braydon well.