Chapter 3

“Beep… beep… beep…”

The steady rhythm of the monitor pulled me out of the darkness. My eyes fluttered open, vision swimming, the sharp sting of disinfectant filling my nose.

At first, I thought I was alone—until I heard it. A soft, broken sob.

“It’s all my fault,” a trembling voice whispered. “I shouldn’t have argued with her in the middle of the road. I just wanted to take her home… Why did you save me first? She’ll hate me when she finds out…”

Sarah.

Of course it was Sarah.

I blinked through the haze and saw her, sitting at my bedside with tears sliding down her cheeks.

Then his voice—deep, calm, steady. The voice that used to be my anchor.

“Don’t cry. It’s not your fault.” Robert reached out, brushing her tears away like she was something fragile. “If I had to do it all over again, I’d still save you first. Your body is weak—you can’t afford to be hurt again.”

Each word sliced into me, sharp and merciless.

The room went silent after she left, the sound of the door clicking shut louder than thunder in the sterile quiet.

Robert turned then, noticing my open eyes. There was no guilt in his face, no panic. Just that same composed calm, as if he hadn’t just chosen her over me in front of my unconscious body.

“It’s just superficial injuries,” he said smoothly. “But I know you hate pain and scars, so I called in the best medical team. You’ll heal perfectly.”

He said it like it was nothing. Like those other words—I’d still save you first—hadn’t just shattered me.

I stared at him, my chest so tight it hurt to breathe. My voice came out hoarse, trembling.

“Why, Robert? Why did you save her first?”

For the first time, he hesitated. His jaw clenched before he answered, his voice low.

“You know why. Sarah saved me once. Because of that, her health has suffered. I owe it to her to protect her.”

I laughed bitterly, tears sliding hot and fast down my face. “So what then? Because she saved you, she gets to come first for the rest of our lives? I’m your mate. I’m your girlfriend, Robert!”

His brows furrowed, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Don’t twist this. I didn’t abandon you. I carried you to the hospital too, didn’t I?”

I scoffed, hollow and broken. In that moment, it finally hit me—what he gave me wasn’t love. It was responsibility. Obligation. Nothing more.

The next few days blurred together. Robert stayed at the hospital, postponing his work to sit at my side. To anyone else, it might’ve looked like devotion. But I didn’t cling to him. I didn’t cry or fight for scraps of his attention. I ate when told. Slept when told. Silent. Distant.

And my silence unsettled him.

“Are you still angry?” he asked one evening, his voice softer than usual as I winced from an injection.

I forced a smile. “Angry about what?”

“That I didn’t save you that day.” He paused, his jaw tight. “Barbara, my saving Sarah was justified. She and I—”

The door burst open before he could finish. A nurse stood there, breathless. “Alpha Robert.”

His head snapped up. “What is it?”

The nurse lowered her voice. “Sarah… she fell down the stairs. She was unconscious when she was brought in. She keeps calling for you.”

My stomach dropped.

I looked at Robert, searching for any flicker of hesitation. There was none. His expression shifted instantly, his movements sharp and urgent as he stood.

“I have to take care of this,” he said quickly, already halfway to the door. “I’ll come back later.”

And then he was gone.

The silence that followed pressed down on me like a weight.

For days, my illness had left me strangely calm, almost detached. But watching him run to her again and again… something inside me finally cracked.

Maybe it was time.

Maybe I should leave. Study abroad, like my father had begged me to. Stop sacrificing myself for someone who never truly chose me.

Because staying here, being replaced over and over again, wasn’t love. It was humiliation.

And maybe, just maybe, walking away was the only way left to keep the last shred of my dignity intact.