Abandoned Fiancé: My Finger for His Dream

"Let's just call off the wedding..."

The pain shooting through my severed finger, combined with the blood loss, left my voice weak and hoarse.

Even so, both Ashley Blake and Marc Tyson turned toward me instantly.

The disdain in Ashley's eyes deepened.

"Are you playing hard to get again? Troy Clinton, I've seen all your little tricks before."

Winning the international piano competition was not only Marc's dream; it had been mine too. More importantly, it was my mother's dying wish.

Every second wasted here lowered the chances of reattaching my finger.

Bitterness flooded my chest. I no longer had the strength to argue with her. I staggered forward, trying to pick up the severed finger lying in the pool of blood.

Just as I was about to touch it, Marc rushed over and caught my wrist with an innocent look on his face.

The severed finger, still wearing the engagement ring, ended up directly beneath his shoe.

He looked at me guiltily, then raised the hand he had just purposely jammed in the door. "Troy, I know you never meant to injure my hand."

He lifted it slightly with a smile. "Look, it's just a tiny injury. I'm fine."

As he spoke, Marc shifted his weight casually. The hard sole of his leather shoe crushed my severed finger over and over.

"If you two turn on each other over me, then I'd really be the villain here."

By the end, he had even forced out a few fake tears.

Under any other circumstances, I might have admired his acting skills.

However, right now, I had no patience for it.

I stretched my bloody hand toward his ankle, but before I could even touch him, Marc suddenly cried out and stumbled backward dramatically.

"Marc!"

Ashley rushed over and caught him gently in her arms. Then, she turned to glare at me with a fiery look.

"Troy, don't be so vicious! Marc was only worried about you, and you actually pushed him?"

The air froze around us.

I stared at her in disbelief.

At that moment, the agony in my hand was nowhere near the pain tearing through my chest.

"Ash, Troy didn't push me. I just lost my balance. Don't blame him."

Marc's considerate tone softened Ashley's expression at once, filling her with sympathy.

"You're still defending him at a time like this? If I weren't here, who knows how badly he would bully you?"

Marc pursed his lips and looked at her gently. "Then, let me stay by your side forever, okay?"

Ashley smiled fondly and rubbed his hair before pulling his head against her chest.

"Okay."

My vision gradually blurred, but I still caught the smug provocation hidden deep in Marc's eyes.

Using the last of my strength, I trembled as I reached toward my severed finger again.

Ashley snapped back to attention and stepped hard onto the back of my hand.

"Apologize to Marc now," she said coldly, looking down at me from above.

Her tone left no room for argument.

When I remained silent, she pressed down harder. Agony shot up my arm and pierced straight into my heart.

"I told you to apologize!"

"Ash, forget it," Marc said, tugging gently at her sleeve. "I don't care about this. We should get Troy to the hospital first. He's lost so much blood. What if it affects his ability to play the piano in the future?"

Ashley let out a dismissive laugh.

"He's a grown man. It's just a little blood loss. What could possibly happen?"

My head sank into a fog of pain until I could no longer think.

Just before the darkness claimed me, I saw the woman who once promised to love me forever holding another man intimately in her arms as she said, "The world only needs one pianist. Marc is that one."