Chapter 4

Caleb's breath hit my face, thick with alcohol. "Aurora, how far are you going to push Layla before you're satisfied?"

His fingers dug into my wrist so hard that it felt like he could snap the bone. A sharp, drilling pain shot up my arm, and the blood drained from my face.

In my previous life, Layla tried to end her life because Caleb married me. A month after our wedding, she slit her wrists and died from massive blood loss.

Caleb couldn't find a matching blood type in time, so he could only watch as her life slipped away.

From then on, he hated me. He held on to that hatred until he died, and he never forgave me.

But in this life, I hadn't even married him yet. So why had Layla still chosen to hurt herself?

The system's voice echoed in my mind. "You only have one wish card left. Are you sure you want to use it on Caleb and not keep it for yourself?"

I remembered what would happen in 12 years and nodded without hesitation. It was the only way to end everything between us.

I had still been wondering how I was supposed to fulfill his third wish. Now, the opportunity had walked right up to me.

I met his furious eyes. "So, you're here to ask me to give blood to save her, aren't you?"

Caleb froze, clearly not expecting me to say it out loud. His expression darkened. "You think I wouldn't dare? You pushed Layla into slitting her wrists! You should be the one to atone!"

He tightened his grip and dragged me straight to the hospital, where Layla was being treated.

Layla lay on the bed, barely conscious, her face as white as the pillowcase under her head.

The doctor checked the test results and looked relieved. "Ms. Wynne's blood type is a match. But to stabilize Ms. Shaw, we'll need about two units of blood."

"No!" Caleb's expression instantly shifted, his brows knitting. "Taking that much blood is like taking half her life! She can't endure that! Isn't there anything else you can use?"

The doctor hesitated, his expression turning grave. "We don't have any Rh-negative blood in stock right now. If you refuse to let us use Ms. Wynne's blood, you need to be prepared for the worst. Drawing the blood won't endanger Ms. Wynne, but Ms. Shaw may not hold on much longer."

Caleb pressed his lips into a thin line, his gaze fixed on Layla's pale face.

I could see how much he hurt just looking at her, so I turned to the doctor. "I'm willing to help her. Go ahead and take it."

The doctor glanced at Caleb for confirmation. "But this will cause significant damage to your body."

I smiled. "It's alright. I'll recover. Saving her is what matters."

Caleb stared at me for a long moment before he finally frowned. "Fine. I'll owe you for this. I'll make it up to you."

He left the room, and the doctor began to draw my blood.

The needle pierced my skin, sinking in deeper. The pain sharpened with each push.

As the blood flowed out of me, memories I had tried to bury floated to the surface.

When I was ten and had just lost my parents, the rich kids at school surrounded me and laughed.

"You don't even have parents. How can an orphan like you sit in the same classroom as us?"

Caleb had stood up for me that day. He shoved the ringleader against the wall, then turned and rested a hand on my trembling head. "Don't be scared. I'm here."

That held me together through my teenage years.

Even later, when his family arranged his engagement to me and Layla stood between us, he was still the one who stepped in front of me whenever danger appeared.

Until that day, when a knife came swinging toward me on the roadside, and Caleb stepped in front of me to shield me.

As he lay dying, he looked at me and forced out the cruelest words I'd ever heard. "Aurora, I would've been better off if I'd never met you..."

I snapped out of the memory and steadied myself against the dizziness, dragging myself up from the chair.

Just then, the door opened, and Caleb walked in with a thermal container. The smell of beetroot soup drifted out, and the warmth of it made my eyes sting.