Chapter 1

[How's your father?]

Juan Shaw's message sat on the screen, a little too late.

I sat on the bench outside the emergency room, still holding the pen for the consent form. I had already cracked the cap, and a tiny sharp edge of plastic dug into my palm.

The nurse pushed the door open and came out, her voice low. "Ms. Thomas, the patient is stable for now, but we'll need to keep him under observation after this."

I nodded.

My phone vibrated again. It was Juan. He sent a second message.

[Whitney is stable now. I'm coming over.]

I stared at the line for a long time, then replied with two words.

[It's fine.]

He called me almost at once, but I didn't pick up. By the time Dad was taken to the ICU, it was already morning. Through the glass, I saw him lying on the hospital bed, his face covered by an oxygen mask.

I suddenly remembered the night of our engagement party.

When Juan put the ring on me, his finger brushed over my knuckle.

"Vivian, from now on, come to me whenever something happens."

The applause below the stage had been so loud then…

And to think I had actually believed him.

At eight in the morning, Juan finally arrived at the hospital. He wore the dark gray coat from last night, his collar slightly wrinkled, and he smelled of disinfectant mixed with women's perfume.

When he saw me, he stopped. "Why didn't you answer my calls?"

I leaned against the wall. My voice was a little hoarse. "I was afraid I'd disturb Whitney's sleep."

His brow frowned slightly. "Vivian, do you have to talk like that?"

I did not raise my head. "Then how should I speak? Should I thank you for making time in your busy schedule to come see my dad?"

Juan was quiet for a moment before reaching for my wrist. His touch was gentle, like a doctor comforting a patient. "Last night was an emergency. Whitney has severe anxiety. She can't handle any agitations."

I pulled my hand away. "My dad was being resuscitated."

"I know," Juan said with a softened voice, "but your dad was already in the hospital. There were doctors and procedures. Whitney only had me."

Only had him.

I laughed when I heard those three words.

Juan looked at me, and annoyance flickered in his eyes. "Stop making a fuss. I'm here now."

He always thought showing up counted as making up for it. A hug that came too late, an explanation that came too late, concern that came too late. As long as he was willing to give it, I was supposed to simply accept it.

The doctor came out of the office and handed me a stack of billing invoice and the follow-up treatment plan.

I had just reached for them when Juan took them first.

"I'll handle it." His fingertips skimmed the pages, professional and calm. "I'll ask someone to reevaluate the surgical plan. Don't be too nervous."

If this had happened earlier, it would have been enough to bring tears to my eyes. But now, all I could feel was the chill.

Then his phone rang.

Juan looked down, his expression softened. The caller ID read Whitney. He didn't answer and simply declined the call. A second later, Whitney's message popped up anyway.

[Juan, I'm awake. The room is so empty. I'm a little scared.]

Juan tightened his grip on the billing forms.

I saw it.

He also knew I saw it.

Everything seemed to go quiet for a few seconds.

He looked up, his voice was still steady. "I'll pay your dad's bills first, then go check on her."

I looked at the forms in his hand and said, "It's fine."

Juan frowned. "Vivian, this isn't the time to act out of anger."

I took the forms back and straightened them one by one. "I'm not acting out of anger. I'll handle my dad's care myself."

He stared at me, as if he was trying to tell whether my silence was another way to force him to give in. I simply turned and walked toward the billing window.

Behind me, Whitney called again as the phone rang.

This time, Juan answered and answered with a lowered voice, "Don't be scared. I'll be back soon."

I didn't stop walking. There were many people in line, and the light at the window flickered on and off. I lowered my head and looked at the ring on my finger.

The diamond was still as bright.

And yet, I suddenly felt he could no longer find me.