Chapter 3

Grandma Maggie's condition took a sudden, violent turn, spiraling downward without warning. Every doctor on staff tried everything they could to save her, but the surgery she needed—only I could perform it.

By the time I broke through the door and ran out, my feet were bleeding.

By the time I reached the hospital, it was already too late.

I became the doctor responsible for a catastrophic medical error. Grandma Maggie's resuscitation failed, and she died in agony.

Robbie stood at the end of the hallway, his eyes cold as ice.

"I liked you. More fool me. But what did my grandmother ever do to deserve this?

"The youngest oncologist at Lydian Medical Center, Selena Hartley—is this how you treat your patients?

"My grandmother is dead. Are you satisfied now?"

I shook my head frantically, desperate to explain. But Robbie wouldn't so much as look at me again. He turned and walked away, indifferent.

Because of what happened, my father and I had a violent falling-out. I signed papers formally cutting all ties with him and left without looking back. Furious, my father used his influence to have me blacklisted from the entire medical profession.

By my third year working at the factory, I couldn't stop the stomach pain, couldn't stop coughing up blood. Years of medical experience told me immediately—my body wasn't going to hold out much longer.

The memory had run long. By the time I surfaced from it, Robbie had already turned the faucet back on.

The anesthesiologist stood there for a long moment, looking embarrassed, and scratched his head. "Sorry—you two seemed so close back then, I just assumed..."

A flicker of mockery crossed Robbie's eyes. "Close" was a word that only applied to the past. Whatever we'd once had was long gone by the time it ended.

The year cancer was tearing me apart, Robbie had just pulled off an incredibly successful surgery that made him a rising star in the medical world. He was the only one who could treat what I had. But I didn't dare go find him.

Three years earlier, Grandma Maggie's death had haunted me like a nightmare that wouldn't let go. Countless nights, twisted with physical pain, I woke up crying from that same dream—apologizing over and over, drowning in regret, hating my father, hating myself.

But fate loves its little twists of drama.

After I collapsed in my rented room, my landlady found me and immediately called an ambulance. I was rushed to the hospital, and when the doctor learned I was refusing treatment, he asked me, stunned, why.

I gave a bitter laugh and told him it was because I didn't have the money.

The doctor went quiet.

As I was leaning against the wall, making my way out, I ran straight into Robbie. He was dressed in a crisp white coat, discussing a cancer surgery plan with another doctor nearby. The moment he saw me, the smile vanished from his lips.

"What are you doing here?"

I hesitated. A thousand things I wanted to say collapsed into one sentence.

"Robbie—the thing that happened three years ago. Can you forgive me?"

He glanced at me once, his gaze cool and distant, and tossed out a single line without turning back.

"Only if you're dead."

I stood frozen, staring at his retreating back, and gave a bitter smile, thinking I would be dead soon enough. And then, maybe, he'd finally... forgive me.

I blinked my dry eyes and came back to myself, looking down at Robbie. He'd already finished drying his hands and was walking out, his face blank.

In the hallway, he ran into my father again, who'd come to finish up his retirement paperwork.

Only then did Robbie's mouth twist into something like a smirk as he finally answered the anesthesiologist's earlier question. "There's nothing between me and someone like Selena Hartley. Never was."

My father's steps faltered. He looked at Robbie, his expression complicated. After a long moment, he let out a heavy sigh.

"Don't blame Selena for what happened back then. She didn't do anything wrong. It was all on me."