Chapter 3

Jeanette noted the date and politely said goodbye.

On her way home, Hank suddenly called. His voice was unusually urgent.

"You're not at home?"

She froze for a moment and was about to answer when he spoke again.

"Wherever you are, get to St. Thomas Medical Center downtown. Right now."

In all the time they had been together, Jeanette had never seen him this frantic.

She hesitated for a few seconds, but in the end, she told the driver to turn around.

When she arrived at the emergency room, she found Hank standing there, completely unharmed.

If he was not hurt, then who was...?

Before she could ask what had happened, a nurse approached and led her into a room next door.

"You have type O blood, right?"

Jeanette nodded, confused. The nurse asked a few questions about her health, then inserted a thick needle into her arm.

A sharp sting shot through her skin, and Jeanette could not help hissing in pain. Only then did she realize she was donating blood.

As she watched the blood collect in the bag, the nurse struck up a conversation.

"What is your relationship with that handsome guy outside? His girlfriend was in a car accident near the airport and was brought here. He was so frantic that he contacted our hospital director himself.

"Our blood supply was running dangerously low, and he made one phone call after another. In the end, he called you in. He must be crazy about his girlfriend."

At those words, Jeanette felt her heart clench as though an invisible hand had seized it and squeezed hard. Even after the pressure eased, she still could not catch her breath. The pain lingered long after the worst of it had passed.

So Hank had called her there just to donate blood for Cecilia?

As though asking his substitute to donate blood for the woman she was replacing was not cruel enough, he knew perfectly well that Jeanette suffered from severe anemia.

Had he forgotten? Or was he so desperate to save Cecilia that he simply did not care?

After the blood draw, Jeanette sat in the chair for nearly half an hour before she began to feel normal again. Throughout that entire time, Hank never came to check on her. He did not even ask how she was doing.

There was no need to guess where he was. He was undoubtedly still at Cecilia's side.

Of course, she was nothing more than a substitute. What right did she have to expect even a moment of his concern?

With a bitter, self-mocking smile, Jeanette pushed herself up and used the wall for support as she made her way out. Just then, the lights above the operating room went out.

The doctor wheeled the patient out, and Hank immediately hurried after him, his face tight with worry. He followed them into the hospital room.

Through the window, Jeanette watched him sit beside the bed and clasp Cecilia's pale hand tightly in both of his. His face was filled with fear and desperate hope.

Her chest tightened.

In all the years she had known Hank, he had always remained calm and composed, no matter what happened, as though nothing in the world could truly shake him. She had known him for five years, and this was the first time she had ever seen him look like that.

So this was what Hank looked like when he truly loved someone.

For the next four or five days, Hank never came home. Jeanette knew he was at the hospital, but she never contacted him.

Instead, she did three things.

First, she went to work and handed in her resignation.

Second, she took out her suitcase and began packing.

Third, she marked her departure date on the calendar.

As the day drew closer, the confusion and uncertainty weighing on her heart gradually faded. For the first time in days, she felt a measure of peace.

On a sunny day after the rainy season finally ended, Hank returned home.

Almost immediately, he noticed something was wrong. His gaze landed on the cardboard boxes stacked against the wall, and he frowned.

"Why did you bring all your things from the office home?"

Then he spotted the suitcase in the bedroom. His breathing grew slightly uneven.

"Why are you suddenly packing?"

Finally, he noticed the calendar on the wall, where one date had been circled. He turned to look at her.

"And what does that circle around the thirtieth mean?"

Three questions in a row made Jeanette pause.

She decided not to hide anything.

"I found a job I like better, so I quit. I'm packing because I'll be going somewhere far away. The thirtieth is the day I leave."

After speaking, she drew a quiet breath, preparing to tell him the truth about her departure and their breakup.

"Do you have time? There's something really important I need to talk to you about. I..."

Her words were interrupted by the sudden ringing of Hank's phone.

The moment he saw Cecilia's name on the screen, he answered without hesitation. Cecilia's sweet, playful voice came through the speaker.

"Hank, thank you for taking such good care of me these past few days. My friends are throwing me a welcome-back party. Do you want to come?"

Hank was just about to agree when something seemed to occur to him. He glanced at Jeanette.

"What were you saying just now? Was it important?"

What else was there for her to understand?

Jeanette shook her head.

"It wasn't important. If you have somewhere to be, go ahead."

Hearing the unfamiliar voice, Cecilia laughed in surprise.

"Is your girlfriend there too? Bring her along! She donated blood for me the other day, remember? I haven't had a chance to thank her properly."

At the mention of the blood donation, Hank froze. He instinctively covered the phone's microphone and stepped aside.

Jeanette had no idea what the two of them discussed, but in the end, Hank took her with him when he left. She had not even managed to refuse before he hurried her out the door and into the car.

On the way, he offered a brief explanation of what had happened a few days earlier.

"The person who just called is... a friend of mine. She was in a car accident shortly after returning to the country a few days ago, and the hospital was running low on blood. I remembered that you both have the same blood type, and it was an emergency, so I asked you to come. I didn't have time to explain everything. You haven't messaged me these past few days. Are you upset about what happened?"

"No. I have anemia, so I've been resting these past few days. That's why I didn't contact you."

Jeanette's voice was flat and indifferent, as though the entire matter meant nothing to her.

However, when Hank noticed how pale she looked, a sharp pang of guilt struck him.

Right. How could he have forgotten that she had anemia?

He was about to apologize and ask what gift he could buy to make it up to her, but she had already closed her eyes, looking as though she could not care less.

In the end, he swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue.