Chapter 3

And no more chasing after Vivian, waiting for her to look back.

After prescribing me some medication for nerve regeneration, Dr. Hart said, "Mr. Osborne, the insomnia treatment you provided to the hospital has passed clinical trials and is now being rolled out across hospitals citywide. On behalf of the hospital, I'd like to thank you once again."

The outcome didn't surprise me.

Many hospitals couldn't do anything about Vivian's insomnia, and this treatment was the only way she could fall asleep. After all my years of fine-tuning it, it now worked as well as ever, if not better.

As I walked out of the rehab room, I ran straight into Earl. He barrelled toward me then stopped short.

"Allen, don't you ever get tired of stalking us? Why is it that everywhere we go, there you are?" he asked. His eyes were full of contempt and disdain.

We?

Right. Where Earl was, Vivian was never far away. Ever since he came back from abroad, these two had been inseparable.

I didn't want to see Vivian, much less watch the two of them being all over each other like something out of a wildlife documentary.

Just as I was about to leave, she appeared right in front of me.

"Are you stalking me?" she questioned in a voice dripping with annoyance and disdain.

To be fair, I couldn't really blame her for thinking that. After all, I'd trailed after her for seven years, from high school all the way through college. Even I would have come to the same conclusion if I were in her shoes.

"Vivian, narcissism is an illness. You should really get that treated as soon as possible," I replied as I stuffed the medical report into my bag and moved to walk past her.

However, as I brushed by, she suddenly seized my wrist. Her long nails dug deep into my flesh.

The sharp jolt of pain caught me off guard, and for a split second, my face betrayed me.

"Let go," I said through clenched teeth.

In the seven years I'd known Vivian, I had never once looked at her with anything but gentleness. Even at my angriest, all I ever let show was hurt.

Vivian took in my deathly pale face and slowly loosened her grip. A flicker of concern and suspicion passed through her eyes.

"What are you doing here? Are you sick? I'll be back in a few days—you don't need to keep tabs on me this closely. And stop pretending to be ill. You're terrible at playing the victim."

So, that was it. In her eyes, every encounter between us was something I orchestrated. She saw every instance of my vulnerability as an attempt to feign helplessness. Even here at the hospital, she thought I was putting on an act, and a painfully unconvincing one at that.

It turned out that when disappointment cut that deep, the will to fight back would simply vanish.

I looked at her and said nonchalantly, "Yeah, okay, sure. Believe whatever you want. Just sign the divorce papers soon so I can leave you lovebirds to it."

Vivian finally lost control of her temper and snapped at me, "Allen, if you don't know what's good for you, you're going to blow the last chance I'm giving you."

I shot her a cold look. "Thanks, but no thanks."

Then, I walked on without pausing. The pain pulsing from my wrist kept jolting my nerves with every step, keeping me ruthlessly clear-headed in the presence of the woman I'd loved for the past seven years.

Vivian looked ready to come after me, but Earl caught her by the hand.

"Vivian, I just got a prescription for insomnia from someone here at the hospital," Earl said, squeezing her palm affectionately. "You haven't been sleeping well the past few days, right? This gives us a perfect chance to try it out."

The hospital bustled with people coming and going. However, Vivian just stood there frozen, staring down at the all-too-familiar prescription for a long, long time.

Over the years, while helping Vivian grow her business, I'd quietly built up a network of my own. Many of those acquaintances still kept in touch with me. Since drawing was no longer an option, I began shifting my focus toward business development.

After handing in my resignation, I set off on a research trip to the state of Zenlora.

Throughout that time, Vivian called me over and over again.

I found myself wondering—this was a woman who never even had time to text me back, so where exactly was she finding all these spare hours to make such pointless phone calls?