For eight years, I had been a bodyguard for a woman. Then, in a single night of passionate abandon, I became more than just her protector but her boyfriend. However, fate, ever the cruel mistress, had other plans. In a twist of irony, both her first love and I found ourselves kidnapped. But she chose her first love without hesitation. I was cast aside because I was a mere pet in her eyes. As I plunged into the abyss of the sea, my final wish was to be spared the torment of her presence in any life to come. … I was Richard Davis, serving both as the bodyguard for Natalie George and, more intimately, as her boyfriend. That evening, I had spent hours crafting a meal when Natalie came rushing towards me. Her eyes were wild with panic. “Mike has been in an accident! Take me to the hospital now!” she cried. Mike Quinn was her first love. “But you haven’t eaten…” I stated, only to be cut off by her impatience. “I can’t eat now!” she interrupted me. Her voice carried a clear tone of irritation and censure as though she were implying that my only concern, amidst everything, was the mundane act of eating. Without waiting, she swiftly strode away. I paused, torn for just half a second before my instincts kicked in; I grabbed the car keys and hurried after her. Mike’s injuries, while not severe, were complicated by his hemophilia and rare blood type. He was in a dire situation. Natalie nudged my arm and said, “Richard, I recall you have Rh-negative blood, right? You must donate blood for Mike!” I clenched my fists and silently gazed at her. Natalie declared, “It’s just blood. You won’t die. You can replenish it quickly.” My breath caught in my throat. Her attention never strayed from Mike. She had completely forgotten that I was her boyfriend. With an urgency that bordered on desperation, she pressed the nurse to hurry me along for a blood draw as though Mike would die within each fleeting second. Upon my return from the room where my blood was drawn, I found Natalie perched at the edge of the bed. Her gaze was locked on Mike, and her eyes were brimming with an ocean of love. She clasped his hand, whispering, “Mike, you must stay healthy.” I stood there, momentarily frozen. Then, with my heart quietly shattering, I walked out, seeking solace in the hospital corridor. Overhead, the cold white light bathed me in its unforgiving glow. At George Manor, I was more than a mere servant; I was handpicked by her father to shadow Natalie as her bodyguard. I embraced the duty for eight enduring years. But it was a drunken night that changed everything. I carried the drunk Natalie to her room, and in a moment of vulnerability, she kissed me, leading to a night of lovemaking. The next morning, she asked me to be her boyfriend, and I accepted, for I had loved her in silence for all those years. I recalled the day Natalie first captured my heart. At the tender age of fifteen, I was forced by an elderly servant to wash his undergarments. My refusal was met with such brutality that he nearly killed me with his fists. As I lay there, dying, Natalie approached. In a delicate dress, she was like a little princess straight out of a fairy tale. She knelt before me and gently applied ointment to my battered flesh. It was at that moment that I truly saw Natalie up close for the first time. I held my breath, afraid that even the warmth of my exhale might disrupt the serenity of her presence. When she finished, she placed a candy in my hand. “If the pain becomes too much, take this strawberry-flavored candy. It’s very sweet.” It was the first time I had tasted such sweet. Through the years, I’d bent to her every whim without hesitation, as loyal as a steadfast hound. There was a time when appendicitis clawed at my insides, and as I was prepped for surgery, her call came through. Without a second thought, I abandoned the surgery to be by her side. Natalie and Mike grew up together. They were once in a love that had been put on hold by distance. Three months ago, Mike returned from abroad. Before his return, Natalie would summon me to her side for gallant escapades. Together, we would ride horses across verdant fields, ski down the powdery slopes, and grace the tables of couple’s restaurants. We indulged in all the rites of courtship reserved for lovers, but our bond could never be proclaimed to the world. She would even post our picture on social media, though my face remained a secret. It was only days ago that I discovered the truth hidden in her phone. Those declarations of our love were for Mike’s eyes alone. I was a pawn in her game to provoke his jealousy. Even the clothes and shoes she bestowed upon me were reflections of his tastes, not mine. As dawn broke, Natalie emerged from the ward, asking me to fetch breakfast. Noticing my stillness, she seemed to sense the turmoil within me. She took my hand and softly said, “Richard, you understand, don’t you? Mike and I grew up together. With his family abroad, I’m all he has here.” I nodded and went to get her favorite breakfast. Hamburgers and milk. Her brows knitted together in displeasure as she chided me, “Richard, can you not handle even the simplest task? Mike mustn’t have such greasy fare in his condition. Aren’t you aware of that?” My hand, clasping the hamburger, became still in the air as I sought to feed her.
Mike declared, “Natalie, it’s alright.” Natalie snatched the food from my grasp. “Fine!” Her eyes met mine. “You should go back. I’ll stay at the hospital to look after Mike.” I bit back the bitter taste of rejection, turning away from the ward. When I returned home, there lay the meal I had meticulously prepared. Each plate was untouched. All of them were Natalie’s favorites. From the refrigerator, I retrieved a cake. In fact, today was my birthday. But Natalie forgot. At noon, I ventured back to the hospital with a lunch box in hand. The murmur of conversation halted me just outside the ward. Through the sliver of an opening, I watched as several people gathered around Mike’s bed. “Mike and Natalie are a perfect pair,” one voice chimed. “Natalie, you don’t know how deeply Mike cares for you. He’s been waiting for you ever since your breakup,” another added. A question hung in the air. “Natalie, what about your boyfriend? Did you two break up?” Natalie’s closest friend was quick to interject, “What nonsense! He’s merely a bodyguard, of low status, entirely unworthy of Natalie!” “Indeed, his lineage is marred by an alcoholic father and a mother who danced her nights away; both deemed him an encumbrance and sold him off to the George family. He needs to remember his place.” Flushed, Natalie stared at Mike. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” I was thrust back to that night when she confessed her fondness for my bashful demeanor. In my arms, she looked blushed. Suppressing the tempest within, I entered the ward. My movements were rigid as I placed the lunch box on the table. The atmosphere shifted, charged with unspoken tension. Sneers followed. Mike’s eyes locked onto mine. There was a piercing challenge in his stare, silently demanding, “Just who do you believe you are to contend with me?” My fists clenched, and I retreated. Natalie’s voice trailed after me, “Richard, my friends were just joking. Don’t read too much into it.” I faced her and forced a grim smile. “Why not tell them I’m your boyfriend?” Her eyes evaded mine. “Haven’t I explained this before? I’m not ready to make it public. Don’t be unreasonable!” I kept silent. Natalie spun on her heel and returned to the ward. I stood there without moving. Half an hour passed before the visitors departed. My hand delved into my pocket, seeking car keys. But I found instead a set of Bluetooth earphones. Natalie had entrusted me with them, yet in the tumult of emotions, I had failed to deliver them to her. I approached the ward, turning the handle to find it locked. A sense of foreboding washed over me as I knocked. It took a long time before Natalie opened the door. Her coat was discarded, revealing a one-shoulder sweater. Her bare shoulder was marred with seemingly sexual bruises. My heart sank. Natalie asked coldly, “What’s the matter?” I handed her the earphones. “Your earphones.” She was stunned and took them. With a hoarse whisper, I asked, “What did you do with him?” Her expression hardened as she slapped me in anger, “How dare you question me?” Her displeasure was palpable. “Richard, stop with the suspicions. I’m exhausted for dealing with company matters and caring for Mike.” She tugged at her sweater, offering an explanation, “It’s just an allergy. I’ll see a doctor later.” Grief threatened to consume me as I gritted my teeth. Love did not blind me but silenced my protests. The following day, Mike was discharged, and Natalie tasked me with the errand of fetching them. Yet, on the way, fate intervened. I was caught in a car accident.
A wild cat, a sudden apparition in the road, caused my swift evasion, thereby my car colliding with a tree. A sharp pain seared through my arm. At this time, my phone rang. It was Natalie. The moment the connection was made, her voice surged through, laced with irritation, “Richard, what on earth is the matter with you? We’ve been stranded at the hospital’s entrance!” I tried to speak, “I’m…” Before I could explain my involvement in a car accident, she icily cut me off, “If you’re not here in ten minutes, you’re fired!” The call ended, leaving my words unspoken. I gazed at the phone numbly as a profound ache throbbed within my chest. My heart shattered. Glimpsing my bloodied arm, I gritted against the pain, maneuvering the car with one hand and steering towards the hospital. I even compressed a journey of twenty minutes into ten. At the hospital entrance, Natalie glared at me. “What kind of bodyguard are you? Always slacking off. Mike is fragile; he can’t stand for long.” I held back and felt heartbroken. It marked yet another time Natalie cast blame upon me, all for the sake of Mike. Just last month, they ventured out for a horseback ride; Mike mounted a particularly spirited horse, which bucked him off mid-gallop, leaving him with broken ribs as a harsh memento of the day. Natalie had admonished me, claiming that the turmoil stemmed from my poor choice in horse breeds. Merely a week prior, they planned a dinner outing and instructed me to place their order. I selected a dessert with mango, not recalling Mike’s allergy, which led to an urgent rush to the hospital for his allergic reaction. Natalie accused me of nearly killing Mike! A handful of nights ago, she indulged in drinks with Mike until the spirits took hold. While assisting them into the car, she directed me to aid Mike, who, in a moment of deliberate defiance, shook off my hand, resulting in his head striking the car door sharply. She laid the fault at my feet, accusing me of clumsiness for not securing Mike adequately, which led to the unfortunate collision of his forehead with the car’s frame. Whenever a misfortune befell Mike, Natalie accused me of my negligence and my dereliction. Yet, I was her bodyguard, not Mike’s. After escorting Mike to his apartment, I drove home. Once we disembarked from the vehicle, Natalie finally noticed my injury. She asked in surprise, “Your arm is bleeding!” I said calmly, “There was an accident.” She looked at me. “Why not tell me? Go to the hospital for bandaging.” When Mike suffered a car accident, her anxiety propelled her to his side at the hospital, where she remained steadfastly by him. Contrastingly, in the aftermath of my own accident, her concern was succinctly expressed with a detached directive, “Go to the hospital for bandaging.” I was human, flesh and blood, with feelings. “Natalie,” I called She looked up at me. My voice was hoarse, “Do you still like me?” If she were to say no, I could retreat to my former role as her bodyguard, never overstepping the bounds again. She smiled at me, “Yes.” I reached for an embrace, but she pushed me away. “You smell of blood. It’s awful. Don’t touch me.” My hand hung in the air, and the warmth in my heart extinguished. “When will we make our relationship known?” I gazed at her delicate features and asked, “What am I to you, a bodyguard or a boyfriend?” Or was I merely a tool to provoke Mike? She froze. Silence hung between us like a heavy curtain. “Now’s not the time for such romantic talk. Your hand’s bleeding; you should go to the hospital.” She turned away and went into the house, leaving me to gaze upon her back. I had trailed in her shadow to care for her. Yet, all she bequeathed to me, in the end, was the view of her departing back. I took a taxi to the hospital. The doctor had just bandaged my wound when I got a call from Natalie. Her voice was fraught with tears, “Mike’s missing. I can’t reach him. His family’s in debt from a failed business. I fear something’s happened. Please, you must find him quickly!” Natalie, ever privileged, never uttered the word “please.” My resolve melted away. In haste, I left the hospital, neglecting even to don my coat. I hurried to reach Mike’s apartment. Downstairs, I encountered a group of men moving with surreptitious intent, bearing a large sack that appeared to encase human forms within its shadowy depths. My suspicion whispered that Mike might be trapped within, propelling me into combat with those enigmatic figures. However, with my arm already wounded, I was quickly overwhelmed and brought to the ground by their force. They took me in the car. Amidst their hushed exchanges, I gleaned that their quarry was not Mike himself but rather the ransom he represented. Having recognized Mike as the one cherished most by Natalie, the kidnappers sought to exploit this love, demanding a ransom of one million dollars for his safe return. With urgency driving her every step, Natalie hurried to the designated beach, clutching the ransom of one million dollars. Both Mike and I found ourselves bound tightly with ropes, so our mobility was stolen. Yet, Natalie solely settled her gaze on Mike as she cried, “Let him go.” Mike was equally desperate. “Natalie, save me!” My wound reopened, blood flowing. My face turned ghostly pale. My strength ebbed to a whisper. Natalie spared me not a glance. She stared at the kidnappers. “I’ve brought the money, so let Mike go.” Abruptly, the kidnappers revised their demand, reasoning that two million dollars would suffice for two lives. They insisted Natalie procure an additional million dollars for my ransom, warning that without it, they would liberate only one of us. Without hesitation, Natalie pointed at me. “He’s just a dog I raised, not worth a million dollars. Mike must be safe. Let him go!” At that moment, my heart felt as though it had been pierced, bleeding profusely. The intense pain stole my breath. I had known she did not care for me. From the beginning, I was but a means to provoke Mike. Yet, to hear myself reduced to a mere pet in her eyes was a blow I had not anticipated. Her declaration of affection to me, it seemed, was as fleeting and insincere as her regard for a dog. Eyeing me, the kidnappers posed a grim choice to Natalie. “If you don’t choose him, he’ll be thrown into the sea.” Natalie fixed her gaze on Mike, never once straying to me. “His death is of no consequence. I want Mike to live.” The tether that held my sanity snapped. To her, my life was worth less than a glance. After a few seconds, a strange calm washed over me. I was a creature of the George family, so my existence was a debt to her. Now, it was time to repay that debt in full. From this moment on, I would owe the George family nothing. In the next heartbeat, my body was lifted. A splash marked my descent into the icy sea. As the chill of the night invaded my very bones, my eyelids fluttered to a close. At that final, fleeting moment, a singular thought consumed me. In my next life, I wished never to encounter Natalie again.
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