Chapter 3

Keith's POV

Ever since that day Hannah left, she never came back. But she still messaged me every day, sending me photos and her location.

"I'll be away on a business trip for half a month. I'll be home soon."

I read her message but didn't reply.

I was out working, accepting rides like usual. Before I could even accept my first ride, someone rear-ended me on the highway. My car immediately crashed into the roadside barrier. I was still dizzy and disoriented when they loaded me into an ambulance.

"The victim has broken ribs and a fractured finger. He still has a heartbeat…" I couldn't make out the rest before I blacked out.

By the time I came to, I was already in a hospital room. The curtain to my left was drawn tightly, and the anesthesia hadn't worn off yet.

Suddenly, someone opened the door to the hospital room. I was about to reach for the curtain when a familiar voice made me freeze.

"I heard you rear-ended someone. Did you get hurt? We have a driver. Why didn't you have him drive you?"

Hannah's voice was laced with concern. I loosened my grip on the curtain.

So it was Cory who hit me.

Hannah rambled on until her voice eventually broke into sobs. "If something really happened to you, what would Joel and I do?"

Cory held her in his arms and gently reassured her. "I'm fine. It's just a little scrape. The guy I hit wasn't so lucky. His car crashed into the roadside barrier. The doctor said he broke two ribs."

Hearing that, Hannah finally sighed in relief. "I'm glad you're okay. I don't care about anyone else. Their medical expenses, lost wages, and whatever compensation he needs won't be an issue."

Every word Hannah said stabbed me right in the heart. If she had pulled back the curtain, she would realize that the person Cory hit was me. But she didn't.

Beyond the curtain, the two figures held each other. Eventually, I heard the rustling of their clothes.

"We're still in the hospital." Hannah's voice was tinged with coyness.

"Don't worry. His anesthesia hasn't worn off yet. That accident really shook me up. You have to make it up to me."

Since there was only a curtain between us, their voices came through clearly. I felt my stomach churn and almost threw up.

I stared at the grayish-white ceiling, my fists clenched tightly. The pain slowly spread through my body.

I had no idea how much time had passed before the hospital room fell silent again.

After the anesthesia had completely worn off, the searing pain almost made me black out.

I took a deep breath. Only then did I notice a follow request on Instagram on my phone by the window. After accepting it, I realized it was Cory.

A moment later, I received a message from him. "Send me your bank account number. I'll transfer money to you as compensation for hitting you. What a coincidence. You drove my son and me the other day. If you ever need anything in the future, just let me know."

Cory was just as friendly as before. He even sent me a sticker. Still, I didn't respond to his message.

Acting on impulse, I opened his profile. It was filled with photos of him and Hannah together—from five years ago up until now.

In 2021, they got married overseas. In those photos, they were smiling so happily. The diamond ring glimmered in the sunlight.

I remembered that day clearly. Hannah had broken down in tears, telling me she owed a huge sum of money.

I sold the house and the car, gave up a business opportunity with my friend, and started driving for a rideshare service. I completed 27 rides in a day without even eating.

In 2022, their son was born.

I was hospitalized with acute myocarditis and went into cardiac arrest three times. To this day, she still had no idea about it.

I tightened my grip on my phone as a surge of hatred welled up inside me. Then I closed Cory's profile.