Chapter 3

As I walked out of the room, Lexie was sitting on the couch wrapped in Elliot's coat, holding a mug of hot chocolate he had made for her.

On her hand was a diamond ring even larger than mine.

Without needing to ask, I already knew the answer.

As she was pitiable, Elliot's lock screen and social media feeds were filled with her photos.

Out of sympathy for her, when I received 100 roses on Valentine's Day, she received 1,000.

As she didn't have a place of her own, we bought a place that was right across from her office. It was also styled entirely to her liking.

As she watched me leave, Lexie went pale and hurriedly stood up to grab my hand. "I shouldn't have played that stupid game. Please don't fight because of me. I'll leave right now."

Elliot rushed over to support her, knocking me hard against the corner of the table.

He gently rubbed her stomach without sparing a single glance in my direction.

"She's your best friend. Do you really have to drive her away at her most vulnerable moment?"

A dull throb shot up my lower back, but my voice remained calm. "Six months ago, you told me yourself that Lexie was much stronger than me and never threw tantrums like I did. How did her strength suddenly turn into vulnerability?"

Six months ago, Lexie and I attended a bidding event together.

She hesitantly sipped half a glass of wine, while I stepped in front of her and drank a full bottle on her behalf.

I ended up hospitalized that night, while Elliot was at her apartment making hangover soup for her.

Elliot frowned. "Scarlett Hudson, you're not only being selfish now; you're being vindictive."

I didn't bother arguing any further. I turned on my heel and walked out of the apartment.

Before the elevator doors slid shut, Elliot's voice drifted through. "Let her throw her fit. She'll come crawling back begging for forgiveness in a couple of days anyway."

Outside, the rain was heavy.

Before I could take more than a few steps, someone grabbed my wrist.

Elliot coldly thrust an umbrella into my hands. "If Lexie weren't so worried about you, I wouldn't even bother. You're making an endless fuss over something so small. Looks like postponing the wedding was the right call. Once you learn to behave, we'll talk about setting a new date."

I glanced down at the broken umbrella, threw it aside, and walked out into the rain.

That night, I ran a high fever.

Half-asleep, the buzz of my phone jarred me awake.

"Bring all the documents tomorrow at 9:00 am. We're transferring the apartment to Lexie," Elliot said.

I answered instinctively, "What?"

"Watching you storm out made Lexie feel insecure. She's terrified that she'll be kicked out too. Putting the place in her name will give her some security."

Maybe being sick made me emotional, because my voice betrayed a hint of hurt. "I'm sick…"

The line went quiet for a moment before he snapped with impatience. "Running away didn't work, so now you're faking being sick for sympathy?"

That single sentence cleared my foggy mind instantly. The dull ache in my chest just wouldn't fade.

I hung up the phone.

Swallowing my tears, I booked a train ticket back home.

The next morning, right as I arrived outside my office building, I ran into Lexie leaning on Elliot's arm.

"Scarlett, we came to take you home."

Lexie made it sound as though I were the outsider who didn't belong.

She swayed slightly, and Elliot instantly snatched the bag of breakfast from my hands and pushed it into hers. "Lexie has low blood sugar. Skipping one meal won't kill you."

I suffered from severe stomach issues. Skipping breakfast meant crippling cramps.

It wasn't that he thought it was fine that I skipped a meal. Rather, I just didn't matter to him.

When I tried to walk away, Elliot's expression instantly darkened. "Lexie squeezed onto a packed subway just to apologize to your face. Her ankles got all scraped up. Give her a break."

I glanced at the barely noticeable red mark on her ankle, then rolled up my sleeve to reveal the scar on my arm. "I rode that crowded subway for three years. The worst time, a zipper on someone's bag sliced me open so badly that I needed five stitches."

There was zero sympathy in his eyes as he looked at me. "Is that even worth comparing? You and Lexie aren't the same."

My voice tightened. "You're right. We aren't. When we started dating, you promised my parents you'd never let me suffer—"

Before I could finish, a hard slap landed across my face.