เมีย Bad Boy (Set 3 BadBoyไร้รัก 1/3)

SHAYLE

I almost turned back three times before I reached the doors of the conference room.

The laughter and chatter spilling out from inside made me grip my coat tighter, fighting the urge to retreat to where I belonged.

Four years at this company, and not once had I attended one of these “casual Friday gatherings.”

But Laurel from accounting had cornered me earlier, insisting, “Shayle, you can’t keep hiding. Just come for once. It’s just snacks and drinks.”

So here I was.

I smoothed my blouse nervously and stepped in, immediately wishing I hadn’t.

Dozens of coworkers mingled around the long table of finger food. Music played softly from a speaker.

The smell of wine and laughter filled the air. Nobody noticed me at first. Nobody ever did. I kept my head down, hugging the wall as I tried to make myself invisible.

Then a familiar voice cut through the noise.

Carlos, my boyfriend.

He was leaning against the table with a group of men from IT and two women from HR. His voice carried, smooth and cocky, as he downed half a glass of wine.

“Come on, man,” one of the guys teased. “Is it true you’re dating Shayle Vale? The quiet one from data analysis?”

The air in my lungs froze the moment I heard my name.

Carlos smirked, swirling his glass. “Yeah, it’s true.”

A ripple of surprise moved through the small group. One of the women raised her brows.

“Seriously? I never would’ve guessed. You two don’t even look like a match.”

I waited for him to defend me, to smile proudly and say, “Doesn't matter.”

But instead, he chuckled.

“Believe me, I don’t brag about it. I’ve actually been meaning to end it. Four years, and she’s still the same plain old jane.”

The words slammed into me so hard I almost stumbled. My hand flew to the nearest chair for balance.

The man beside him laughed nervously. “Damn, bro. Isn’t that too harsh?”

Carlos shrugged, setting his glass down.

“I’m just being real. She doesn’t drink, doesn’t party, doesn’t even wear makeup. She walks around like she’s forty instead of twenty-six. A fucking nun. Do you know she’s still a virgin? Four years together, and she still hides behind that excuse of waiting until marriage. Who does that?”

A burst of laughter erupted.

My vision blurred. I wanted to turn and run, but my feet were rooted to the floor.

“She’s not even trying,” Carlos went on, his voice louder now, fueled by the attention he was getting.

“Oversized coats, plain blouses, loose pants. She looks like she’s stuck in the nineties. You walk into a room with her, and nobody even notices. It’s embarrassing. Honestly, I’ve been ashamed for a while now.”

I gasped, too loudly.

Heads turned.

Carlos froze mid-sentence. His eyes flicked toward the door. And there I was.

His smirk vanished. For a split second, his face drained of color, but then he straightened, jaw tightening.

The entire room was silent. Dozens of eyes darted between him and me, waiting.

My heart pounded so loudly I could hear it in my ears. My face burned as shame crawled up my neck.

I spun on my heel and bolted for the exit.

“Shayle!”

His voice followed me, footsteps pounding behind. But I didn’t stop. Not until he grabbed my wrist just outside the hallway.

“Wait.”

I yanked, but his grip was firm. “Let go of me!”

His jaw flexed. “Fine. You heard it anyway. I was going to tell you sooner. Let’s break up.”

Tears blurred my vision instantly.

“Carlos… you…” My voice cracked. “You humiliated me. In front of everyone. After four years—”

“Don’t make this harder than it is,” he cut in coldly. “I should’ve done this ages ago. You bore me, Shayle. You’re not the kind of woman men fight over. You’re the kind they settle for when nothing better comes along. And I don’t settle for less.”

I shook my head violently, sobs breaking free. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that…”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice, but his words were like knives.

“If only you were as pretty and bold as Alina, I swear, I could have stayed with you longer. But you're just not my type, Shayle.”

I tore my hand from his grip, stumbling backward. The tears blinded me, and before I could catch myself, my heel missed a step.

The next thing I knew, my body pitched forward.

“Shayle!” Carlos’s shout came too late.

I tumbled down the short flight of stairs, landing hard against the cold floor. Pain exploded in my side and shoulder. The air whooshed out of my lungs.

A sharp cry escaped my lips, but no one came. No one helped, not even Carlos.

He just stood frozen at the top of the stairs, his hands in fists and his eyes darting nervously to see if anyone had noticed. Then he cursed under his breath, turned, and walked away.

He left me there.

I pressed my palm against my throbbing ribs, dragging myself upright. Every breath hurt, every movement burned but the pain wasn't enough to overshadow the shame and heartbreak weighing me down.

I couldn’t stay niether could I go home like this. I needed… somewhere. Somewhere safe.

The hospital was only a few blocks away. Somehow, I forced myself to make it there.

The sterile smell of antiseptic greeted me as I limped into the emergency ward. A nurse quickly helped me to a bed, checking my shoulder and ribs.

“It looks like you’ve got some bruising,” she said, frowning. “But nothing seems broken. Still, we’ll run a quick check.”

She left, and minutes later, a doctor walked in, flipping through my intake form. She looked young, but her eyes were sharp.

“Miss Shayle Vale?”

I nodded weakly.

“You fell down some stairs, correct? Any dizziness before you fell?”

I hesitated, biting my lip. “I… I was crying. Maybe that made me dizzy.”

She studied me closely. “How long have you been feeling weak?”

My chest tightened. “What do you mean?”

“You have bruises on your arms that don’t look consistent with just this fall,” she said gently. “And your blood pressure is unusually low. How long have you been experiencing fatigue, or shortness of breath?”

My stomach dropped. “Months,” I admitted. “But I thought it was just stress. Or maybe… low iron.”

The doctor’s brows knitted. “I want to run some blood tests. Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll authorize it myself.”

Confusion swirled in me. “Why would you—”

“Please,” she interrupted softly. “Trust me.”

I nodded numbly.

The test didn’t take long. I sat on the edge of the examination bed, clutching my coat like a lifeline as the minutes dragged into hours. My chest ached with every breath.

Finally, the doctor returned, holding a file against her chest. Her face was composed, but her eyes were heavy.

“Miss Vale,” she began carefully, “I need you to stay calm.”

My palms grew damp. “What… what’s wrong?”

She drew a breath.

“The tests show something serious. You have cancer. It’s advanced. I’m so sorry, but you may only have about four months left to live.”

The room tilted. What? I didn't believe her, but the seriousness in her face was too real.

Suddenly, Carlos’s voice roared in my head: “You’re the kind they settle for when nothing better comes along.”

A sob tore from my throat as the world collapsed around me.

Is this how I die?