No More Chasing Her

Blood ran from my forehead into my eyes, blurring everything in front of me.

I'd been in a car accident. Not far away, a Porsche that had crashed into me sat crooked across the road.

With trembling hands, I took out my phone and called my fiancee, Celeste Quinn.

It rang for a long time before she finally picked up.

"Celeste, I... I was in an accident. I'm at..."

My voice was hoarse. I forced the words out through the pain in my chest, but before I could finish, Celeste cut me off impatiently.

"Ryan, what kind of stunt is this now? Are you ever going to stop?

"Good. Die, then. Stop bothering me."

As soon as she said that, a gentle, familiar male voice sounded on her end.

"Celeste, my wish is for us to be together forever."

It was Lester Carter. Celeste's ex-boyfriend. The man she'd never stopped loving.

Celeste's impatience vanished at once. Her voice turned soft and tender.

"Okay. Blow out the candles."

She hung up without the slightest hesitation.

I stared at the dark phone screen. It felt as if the light in my eyes had gone out with it.

I was dying from a car crash, and my fiancee was celebrating her first love's birthday.

The injuries from the impact began to throb all over my body. My vision blurred until I couldn't tell whether the liquid running down my face was blood or tears.

I was going to die.

I wondered if Celeste would feel even a little sad when she found out.

Before I lost consciousness, I heard a panicked woman's voice.

"Don't die. I already called an ambulance!"

I had a very long dream.

In the dream, I was about to marry Celeste, the woman I'd loved for years. But in her heart, she was still tangled up with Lester, the first love she could never forget.

After I died in that car crash, the two of them finally ended up together.

When I slowly opened my eyes, the smell of disinfectant filled my nose. I was lying in a hospital bed, wearing a patient gown.

I hadn't died.

My whole body felt as if it had been run over. I struggled to lift my arm and reach for my phone.

Only then did I realize I'd been unconscious for four days.

Celeste had called and messaged me two days earlier. When she couldn't reach me, she still assumed I was acting.

Her last message said:

"Ryan, still pretending, are you? From now on, I won't pay another cent for your sister's hospital bills."

"Ryan, we're over."

When I saw that she'd cut off Lily's treatment money, my heart tightened. I was about to call her when I saw her latest social media post.

It was a photo of her and Lester vacationing in the Maldives. Sunlight, beach, hands intertwined.

I turned off my phone and lay quietly in bed.

In the past, Celeste had threatened to break up with me countless times. They were always angry words. Every time, I lowered myself and coaxed her back.

Celeste and I had been together for three years, and for those three years she'd never fully cut ties with Lester.

She'd even taken every cent I had saved for my startup and used it to cover Lester's failed business losses and pay off his debts.

Because of that, when my younger sister, Lily Sheridan, fell seriously ill and was hospitalized, I couldn't even afford enough for her treatment.

My heart cooled bit by bit. Under the blanket, my fists slowly clenched.

I'd tolerated all of Celeste's behavior. I'd ignored every time she trampled on my feelings, because I truly loved her.

But now she'd used Lily's life to threaten me.