Chapter 5

"Ms. Martinez?"

The nurse's voice snapped her back.

Meredith blinked, forced her hand steady, and signed.

Moments later, they were rolling her into surgery.

As the anesthesia kicked in, everything went black.

Somewhere in the haze, someone called her name.

The voice cut through the fog, sharp and sterile, laced with blood and antiseptic.

She saw the young Alden pinned to the ground, eyes wild, locked on hers.

Then herself, beaming, diving into his arms the day Alderith and Partners launched.

Then Vicky—white dress, cradled in Alden's arms—while she just stood there, deadpan and numb.

When she woke up, the monitor's beeping slammed into her ears.

Moonlight poured through the blinds, silver and sharp.

She stared at the jagged vitals line.

The wound throbbed as the numbing meds began to wear off, like a saw ripping through her gut.

She fumbled under her pillow. 3:17 a.m.

The pain was brutal. She slammed the pain pump button, again and again—barely helped.

Curled up, she just held on.

Tears slipped down.

Guess when it hurts bad enough, they fall whether you want them to or not.

***

Early the next morning.

Sunlight sliced through the haze and hit the windowsill. Meredith, who'd only passed out at dusk after a night of pain, was still out cold when her phone buzzed.

Alden.

She stared at his name like it belonged to someone else.

The second she picked up, his voice cut through—cold, clipped.

"Meredith, I tore up your resignation. Be at the office before nine. We need you on the Hansford Corp case."

"I—"

Then Vicky's voice floated in, sugary sweet. "Alden, where's my hot chocolate?"

Ice. Right to the chest.

Meredith tasted blood, bit her lip, and ended the call.

A small laugh slipped out.

She looked down, swiped, and blocked his number.

Clean. No second thoughts.

***

Fifth day in the hospital.

The attending physician came to remove her stitches, frowning at the CT scan.

"Chronic appendicitis—already necrotic and perforated. You really pushed it. Another half-day and it would've been bad."

Meredith, propped against the headboard, still looked like hell. She gave a weak smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Mm. Won't happen again."

The morning she was discharged, Borevia had just wrapped up an all-night rain.

Sky still gray. Air fresh, damp—smelled like grass and dirt.

The roadside trees were scrubbed clean, bright green, dripping.

Meredith stood alone at the hospital entrance, breathing in deep like she could scrub the antiseptic out of her lungs. Then she raised a hand and caught a cab.

As they passed Alderith and Partners, she glanced at the building. Calm.

Then looked away.

***

Meanwhile, at Alderith and Partners—

Alden stood at the windows, staring down at the packed streets of Borevia.

Grady Gardner, the firm's third partner, was calling Meredith again. Still nothing.

"The number you have dialed is currently unavailable..."

"Still nothing."

Alden's jaw was tight, his whole face stormy.

Grady didn't look much better.

He shot Alden a look. "What's going on, man? It's been a week. You two have fought before, but she's never gone full ghost. Doesn't make sense."

Alden didn't respond. His reflection in the glass looked colder than the view outside.

"You think she might be sick?" Grady asked.

Sick?

A frown. Barely there.

Meredith had always seemed healthy, always smiling. Never seriously sick.

She didn't have anyone in Borevia but him. If something really happened...

"I called her. She's not sick." His voice was flat.

Or at least, she didn't say she was.

Used to be, even a paper cut had her sticking her hand out, asking him to blow on it.

If she were really sick—

Would she not call?

Would she really block him, just to be petty?

Grady let out a breath.

"Okay, but if she's not sick, why didn't she at least ask for time off? The place is chaos without her..." He hesitated. "Dude, come on—you left her at the altar. Anyone would be pissed."

Alden didn't flinch.

Grady rolled his eyes. "Whatever. She'll probably come bouncing back in a day or two."

Alden's jaw clenched. "This firm doesn't pay slackers. Tell HR—if she's not here tomorrow, she's fired."

In his head, that was the one thing Meredith still cared about.

This firm kept her tethered to him.

No way she'd actually walk.

Grady smirked. "Got it. If she hears, she'll be back by morning."

Yeah, right.

From where he stood, it had always been Meredith chasing Alden.

To her, the guy was everything.

To him? She'd always just been... there. Convenient.

Grady had seen it all—she couldn't let go, even when she should've.

And honestly? If Alden had cared even a little, he wouldn't have ditched her at the altar just to run after Vicky.

Alden waved him off.

Grady didn't bother saying more. Just turned and walked out.

Alden glanced at his phone.

Still nothing.

Normally, even if she didn't call, Meredith would text him. Every. Single. Day.

But now?

Their chat thread was still stuck on the wedding day.

She'd sent a smiling emoji:

[o(￣▽￣)o]

[Alden, I'm the happiest person in the world!]

[I'll love you forever!]

He never replied.

Just like always—she'd flood his inbox with hearts and exclamation points, and he'd hit back with a dry "Mm" or "Got it."

But this? Days of total silence?

That was new.

The thought nagged at him. He tossed the phone, jaw tight.

Fine. Let her stew.

She wasn't getting off easy this time.

***

Back from the hospital, Meredith started packing up in her hotel room.

While she was out, she'd listed her apartment through an agent—priced it low, fast sale.

She'd signed it away that morning.

Not her place anymore.

Her phone buzzed.

She checked the screen—HR.

Jaw tight, she hesitated, then picked up.

"Hi, Meredith, when are you coming back to work? Mr. Ashford... he said if you don't show up soon..."

A beat.

"...you'll be fired."