Chapter 5

Diana's ears rang.

The sounds of the world faded away, leaving only Nicholas's words echoing in her mind.

"Why?"

Those two simple words burrowed into her skull and shredded what little control she had left.

"What did my mom and I even do?"

She couldn't make it make sense.

Two years ago, Nicholas had come into her life like a celestial being, proposing to her.

Back then, Rhea had just been diagnosed with severe heart disease, and they needed a massive amount of money, fast.

He'd said, "Marry me, and I'll handle everything."

Diana had believed it was a lifeline when she was drowning.

She hadn't known it was a long, careful hunt, designed just for her.

Nicholas had already straightened to his full height.

He took two steps back and looked down at Diana, curled on the floor. There was no hate in his eyes, and no love either, just a cold, bone-deep indifference.

"You don't get to know the reason." His tone was flat, almost bored. "Diana, what you and your mother are suffering now isn't nearly enough."

He lifted his hand and, unhurried, adjusted the diamond cuff link at his wrist.

The gesture was polished and elegant, a violent contrast to the cruelty of the words leaving his mouth.

"I'm going to make you taste every kind of suffering this world has."

"Every last one."

Then he turned away.

This time, Nicholas didn't look back.

The click of his dress shoes moved from near to far. A car door opened and shut. An engine snarled through the night, and then the sound disappeared completely.

The café staff kept their distance, watching from far off, no one daring to come closer.

Diana lay facedown on the icy floor, her fingers scraping at the smooth tile until it made that sharp, ugly sound.

She tried to push herself up.

Her legs didn't listen.

Her stomach heaved again, fierce and violent. Something metallic rose in her throat. She swallowed hard, once, then again, forcing it down.

She couldn't hold it.

Blood spilled from her mouth and splattered onto the floor.

"Diana!" Arms came around her from behind, strong and steady, catching her before she collapsed completely.

Edward dropped to one knee. One arm braced her shoulders, and with the other hand, he found her pulse with quick precision.

The moment his fingertips touched that weak, chaotic beat, his face tightened, the warmth draining out of his expression.

"You saw it." Diana didn't lift her head. Her voice was muffled against the floor.

Edward's Adam's apple bobbed once. "I'm sorry."

He helped her sit up, letting her sag against his shoulder.

She was so light he could feel the outline of her shoulder blades through her clothes.

"I didn't feel good about letting you go, I called you nonstop after I left the hospital. You didn't pick up, and I figured you might come here."

Diana didn't answer.

It was like her brain had shut off, leaving only raw noise behind her eyes.

Edward shrugged out of his suit jacket and wrapped it around her cold shoulders.

"Come on. Back to the hospital."

"No."

"This isn't a debate." He cut her off, leaving no space for refusal, and half-carried, half-dragged her out of the café and into the passenger seat.

He cranked the heat all the way up.

Diana leaned back with her eyes closed, but her body still wouldn't stop shaking.

"He said he's going to get revenge on me," she whispered, her voice thin and floating. "He said marrying me was for revenge—on my mom and me. But why, Edward? My mom's spent her whole life keeping her head down. Who could she have offended?"

Edward didn't answer right away. He started the car and eased into traffic.

"Diana, listen to me." His eyes stayed on the road, his voice steady, grounded.

"Your GI bleed today was dangerous. If it happens again, nobody's going to be able to save you."

"If you die, what does that solve?"

"Your mom's in the ICU, and you're all she has left. If you die, and she wakes up one day, there won't be anyone there."

"No one to sign surgical consent forms. No one to pay her medical bills. No one to stand by her bed and call her Mom."

"She'll lie there alone and wait to die."

"Is that the ending you want?"

Diana started shaking harder.

The tears finally broke through, sliding down her cheeks without a sound.

"I'm so tired." Three words, so soft they barely made it out. "I'm really tired, Edward."

She folded forward, burying her face into her knees, curling into herself like she was trying to disappear.

"I don't understand why he's doing this. I don't understand what I did wrong. I don't even know why he hates me."

"My baby's gone. My marriage was fake. My mom's dying. And I'm dying too."

"What's the point of me being alive?"

Edward went quiet.

He freed one hand from the wheel long enough to rest it gently on the back of her trembling head, steadying her without forcing her.

After a long moment, he spoke. "The point is—you still don't know the truth."

Diana's shoulders locked.

"Nicholas's hatred didn't come out of nowhere," Edward said. "There's something behind it, something you don't know."

"Dead people can't investigate. Even if it's just to understand what's happening, you have to stay alive."

"And your mom's treatment costs—I'll figure something out."

"Edward!" Diana jerked her head up.

"Don't say no." His tone sharpened, firm in a way that didn't leave room to wiggle. "Consider it a loan. You can't keep begging Nicholas. Every time you go to him, you're smashing whatever pride you've got left and handing it to him so he can grind it into the ground."

"If you do that enough times, it breaks you." He lifted two fingers and tapped his temple. "This breaks too."

Diana opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

They weren't close enough for this. Not even close. Not the kind of close where someone took on your mother's ICU bills like it was nothing.

"Edward, you don't have to—"

"Diana," Edward cut in, "do you know what people in medicine fear most?"

"Not death. It's watching someone who can still be saved give up for some stupid reason."

"I'm your attending physician. If you die on my watch, it's going to follow me for the rest of my career."

The reason was so blunt, so professional, it tugged at something in her face.

Through her tears, the corner of her mouth twitched, almost like the ghost of a smile.

Edward caught it, and a quiet relief loosened in his chest.

"So do me a favor," he said. "For my future. Work with me."

He pulled up to the emergency entrance.

Edward got out, rounded the car, and opened her door.

Diana still didn't move.

"Edward."

"Yeah?"

"I can't take your money."

Edward frowned, his brows drawing tight.

"But…" Diana lifted her head. In her swollen and red eyes, a fading ember, stirred by the wind, flickered back to a faint spark.

"Can you help me set up a round of chemo?"

Edward froze.

Since her diagnosis, this was the first time she'd asked for treatment on her own.

He didn't know which word in that brutal conversation had pierced her despair and forced out a sliver of will to live.

He only knew it was enough.

"Yeah," he said. "I can."

He didn't ask anything else. He just reached in, steady and careful, and helped her out of the car.

That night, Diana was admitted to a private room in the oncology ward.

At two in the morning, only after he'd watched Diana finally fall asleep under the weight of the medication, Edward stepped out into the hallway.

The door clicked shut behind him.

On the bed, Diana opened her eyes.