At Chloe’s birthday party, she publicly asked my fiancé, Harvey, for a gift. It was the silver crucifix he wore around his neck, the one he never took off. Without a single second of hesitation, Harvey took it off and handed it to her. Chloe smiled, dangling the necklace in front of her. “You’ve worn this cross for eight years. I begged you for it for three years, and you always refused. Why the sudden change of heart today?” Harvey didn’t say anything, but his cheeks flushed slightly. The crowd started cheering and whistling, teasing that Harvey’s feelings for her were too obvious to hide. Amidst the roaring laughter in the hall, I stood frozen in the corner, gripping my wine glass so hard my knuckles turned white. Nobody knew that I was the one who got him that cross. Eight years ago, I knelt on the cold chapel floor for three days and nights, begging God for his life. That was the year he got into a horrific car accident. He was lying in the ICU, practically brain-dead. I spent those nights praying in the chapel, pressing my forehead against the stone altar until I bled, just begging for him to wake up. The priest told me this blessed cross would keep him safe. But nobody warned me that while the cross could save his life, it could never secure his heart.
The teasing and cheering around them grew louder and louder, like waves crashing over me. Harvey was surrounded by the crowd, a gentle look of indulgence in his eyes—a look he probably didn’t even realize he was making. I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t even cry. I just felt… exhausted. I turned around and walked away without saying goodbye, pushing open the heavy wooden doors of the banquet hall. Outside, the freezing spring rain drenched my thin evening gown in seconds. But my heart was a million times colder than the storm. Suddenly, my phone vibrated violently. It was the emergency hotline for the Air Medical Rescue Team. I swiped to answer. My captain’s panicked voice blasted through the speaker. “Maya! Get back to base immediately! There’s a massive multi-car pileup on the mountain highway. A tour bus has plunged over the cliff!” “On my way. I’ll be at the base in ten minutes.” I ran into the pouring rain without a second thought and flung open the door of my rugged SUV. I was the lead surgeon of the Air Medical Rescue Team. I was the one who dragged people back from the brink of death. Yet, I couldn’t drag back the heart of the man I loved. If I couldn’t save it, I might as well stop trying. The rescue scene at the mountain highway looked like an absolute hellscape. Blood was mixed with mud, and screams of agony echoed through the dark ravine. Heavy rescue gear weighed me down as I rappelled from the helicopter, dropping a hundred feet down to the bottom of the cliff. We worked for five straight hours. My hands were covered in other people’s blood. My body was pushed to its absolute physical limit. Just as I was securing the last critically injured patient onto a stretcher, a low, ominous rumble vibrated from the mountain above. “Dr. Maya! Watch out! Second landslide!” my teammate screamed through the walkie-talkie. I looked up. Huge boulders and a massive wave of mud were cascading down, swallowing everything in their path. To protect the patient on the stretcher, my instinct took over. I threw my body over him. An agonizing pain exploded in my back as a stray boulder slammed violently into my shoulder blade. Before darkness swallowed me whole, only one face flashed through my mind. It was Harvey. Harvey, who had been dying in the ICU eight years ago. The same Harvey I had bled and prayed for in that cold chapel. When I woke up, it was already the afternoon of the next day. The sharp smell of bleach hit my nose. My captain, Vance, let out a massive sigh of relief when he saw me open my eyes. “You’re lucky to be alive, Maya. The rock barely missed your spine.” I forced a pale, weak smile, my voice raspy. “But I made it, didn’t I?” Vance sighed. He looked hesitant, like he was holding something back. “While you were unconscious, your phone kept buzzing. It was Harvey. I called him back to let him know what happened.” “I had to call several times before someone finally answered. But…” My heart skipped a beat. “But what?” Vance looked away, his expression a mix of embarrassment and anger. “A woman answered. She said… she said Harvey was busy helping her pick out ski gear for their trip to Switzerland. She said he didn’t want to be disturbed.” “She also told me to tell you… to stop playing the victim just to get his attention.” ‘Playing the victim.’ Those words felt like a dull knife hacking away at my chest. So, in his eyes, my life-or-death rescue missions were just pathetic attempts to beg for his affection. I closed my eyes, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. “I see. Thanks, Captain.” I didn’t stay in the hospital a minute longer than I had to. I pulled out my IV drip, ignored the tearing pain in my back, and caught a cab back to the penthouse I shared with Harvey. Next week was scheduled for our wedding dress fitting. Next month was our wedding. When I pushed the door open, the living room lights were blazing. Harvey was standing in the walk-in closet, packing clothes into a sleek silver suitcase. Hearing the door, he turned around. When his eyes swept over my pale face and my mud-stained jacket, he frowned slightly. “Where were you last night? You didn’t answer your phone.” There was no worry in his voice. Only a cold, condescending accusation. “Saving lives,” I replied flatly. Harvey let out a cold scoff, carelessly tossing a designer shirt into his suitcase. “Maya, how much does that stupid rescue job even pay you? Is it really worth making yourself look like a homeless wreck?” “Yesterday, Chloe was just playing around when she asked for the cross. You got mad and threw a tantrum, and now you’re staying out all night? Are you serious?” I stared at him in silence. This was the man I had loved for eight years. His collar was open. The silver cross was no longer there. Suddenly, he felt like a complete stranger. So foreign that I didn’t even have the energy to argue with him. “Where are you going?” I asked, looking at the suitcase. Harvey paused, a trace of guilt flickering in his eyes before he quickly covered it up. “Chloe’s depression is acting up again.” “The environment here isn’t good for her recovery. I’m taking her to Switzerland to clear her head.” “Isn’t our wedding dress fitting next week?” my voice sounded incredibly hollow, even to my own ears. Harvey turned around, his frown deepening. “A dress fitting can happen anytime. What’s the big deal if we push it back a few days?” “Maya, you’re a healthy, normal person. Chloe is sick. Can you stop being so incredibly selfish for once?” “She only went abroad years ago because her family went bankrupt. She’s suffered enough. Do you really have to hold a grudge over a stupid necklace?”
Selfish. Grudge. I stared at him, and a laugh escaped my lips. But then, the tears finally spilled over. My laughter seemed to irritate Harvey. He took a step toward me, reaching out to grab my hand. “What are you laughing at?” I took a step back, dodging his touch. The movement tugged at the wound on my back, sending a sharp, stabbing pain through my body. But it was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. “Harvey, that cross… I knelt in that chapel for three days and three nights to get it.” “When you were dying after the crash, I begged God to save you.” “The priest told me that the cross would keep you safe.” I paused, taking a deep breath. “Now that you’ve given it to Chloe, aren’t you afraid it’ll bring her bad luck instead?” Harvey’s face darkened, instantly replacing his guilt with pure rage. “Maya! What the hell is wrong with you?!” “Chloe just wanted a symbol of safety. How can you be so vicious?!” “Enough. I don’t have time for your hysteria. We both need some space to cool off.” With that, he grabbed his suitcase and stormed out of the apartment. At the doorway, he paused, not bothering to turn back. “I’ll take you to the dress fitting when I get back. Get your act together.” The heavy front door slammed shut. I stared at the empty foyer. Slowly, I slid down to the floor, wrapping my arms around myself. There would be no dress fitting. There would be no wedding. I pulled out my phone and dialed the wedding planner. “Hi, is this Mr. Henderson?” “Miss Maya! Yes! Is there something we need to adjust for the ceremony?” “No,” I said, staring at our framed couple’s photo on the coffee table. “Cancel the wedding. Keep the deposit.” Silence deadened the line for ten seconds. “Miss Maya… are you joking? This is a million-dollar venue setup…” “I’m not joking. Cancel it. I’ll pay whatever contract termination fees are required.” After hanging up, I called the high-end bridal boutique where my custom gown was being held. “Miss Maya, the gown designed personally by Mr. Harvey has just been flown in from Paris…” “Shred it,” I said coldly. Since he didn’t care about our marriage, I wasn’t going to leave him even a single thread of it.
I hung up and looked down at my hands. There was dried mud under my fingernails, and my bandages were starting to seep with fresh blood. Strangely, the physical pain from my torn flesh didn’t hurt as much as his accusations of me being “selfish.” I braced myself against the sofa and stood up with difficulty. Since I was leaving, I needed to take what was mine. I walked into the bedroom and opened the closet. It was packed with expensive designer clothes Harvey had bought for me over the years. But every single piece was tailored to Chloe’s style. Soft, muted, delicate colors. But I was a trauma surgeon who rappelled down helicopters in thunderstorms. I hated white. I yanked the clothes off their hangers and tossed them onto the floor like garbage. At the very bottom of the closet, I pulled out a worn-out, faded canvas backpack. It was the backpack I used back when I first met Harvey. I was a sophomore in medical school back then. Harvey was the golden boy of the campus—brilliant, wealthy, and admired by everyone. And by his side, there was always Chloe, looking like a graceful white swan. But during our senior year, the Williams family went bankrupt overnight. Shortly after, Harvey was critically injured in a car crash and ended up in the ICU. The very same night, Chloe boarded a flight to New York. She said she couldn’t handle the struggle. She said her family had arranged a wealthy marriage for her. She said she was sorry. She left without looking back. I was the only one who stayed. I sold my late parents’ house, worked three part-time jobs, and paid off his astronomical medical bills. When the hospital ran out of his rare blood type, I donated 800cc of my own blood in one sitting, almost dying on the donation chair. While he was comatose, I knelt in that chapel for three days and three nights. I told God I would gladly trade ten years of my own life just to see him wake up. And he did. He held my hand, his eyes red, and swore: “Maya, my life belongs to you now. From this day on, I, Harvey Williams, will only live for you.” For eight years, I stayed by his side. I watched him build his empire from nothing to a multi-billion-dollar corporation. I thought my love had finally melted his cold heart. But three years ago, Chloe came back to the States with a clinical depression diagnosis. The day Harvey went to pick her up from the airport, we were supposed to be choosing our wedding rings. He took a phone call and abandoned me in the middle of the jewelry store. From that day on, everything changed. Chloe was afraid of the dark, so he spent nights at her apartment. Chloe liked the design of my engagement ring, so he asked me to choose a different one. And yesterday, he took the cross that had saved his life and hung it around her neck. How pathetic. The man I saved with my own blood would crawl back to his first love the second she whistled. I opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out the cheap backup ring he had bought me. I placed it on the coffee table, right next to all the black cards and the keys to the Maybach he had given me. I didn’t owe him anything anymore. In fact, he owed me everything. Suddenly, my phone rang. The caller ID flashed: Harvey. I watched it vibrate until it was about to go to voicemail before I finally answered. “Maya! Have you lost your mind?!” Harvey’s furious voice exploded through the speaker. “Why did you cancel the venue?! And why did you order the boutique to shred the wedding dress?!” His breathing was heavy. He was clearly livid. “That dress was a custom piece! Do you have any idea how much money we have to pay for breaking the contract?!” I put the phone on speaker and tossed it onto the table. Then, I went back to packing my old t-shirts into my canvas bag. “Whatever the cost, I’ll cover it,” I said calmly. There was a sudden silence on the other end. He clearly didn’t expect me to be this calm. “Maya, what is this tantrum about?” his tone softened a fraction. “I already told you, I’ll take you to the fitting as soon as I get back from Switzerland.” “Do you really have to use such extreme measures just to manipulate me?” “Manipulate you?” I let out a soft laugh. “Harvey, you highly overrate your own importance.” “What… what do you mean?” I zipped up my canvas bag and slung it over my shoulder. “Exactly what I said. The wedding is off. We are done.” “Stop playing games!” Harvey’s voice escalated again. “We’ve been together for eight years! You’re throwing it all away?” “Over a stupid cross? Because I postponed a dress fitting by a few days?” “Maya, when did you become so childish and unreasonable?!” Listening to his rant, I felt nothing but a deep, suffocating exhaustion. “Harvey, that wedding dress… was it really designed for me?”
The breathing on the other end stopped instantly. “What… what are you talking about?” I looked down at the floor. “The boutique manager let it slip. The waist measurement of that gown was 24 inches.” “My waist is 26 inches.” “24 inches is Chloe’s size.” A dead silence stretched between us. I could hear Harvey’s sharp, panicked intake of breath. “Maya, let me explain…” “Save it,” I cut him off. “Since the dress was made for her anyway, consider the shredded pieces my early wedding gift to her.” “Maya!” Harvey panicked. “That dress was Chloe’s dream!” “She is incredibly sick right now! I just wanted her to wear her dream dress once before she goes into treatment! It was just to fulfill her wish!” “Are you really so heartless that you’d deny a dying girl’s last wish?!” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes. In fact, I’d gladly watch her burn.” “You are insane!” Harvey roared. “Your captain called me earlier and said you were injured in some accident! Maya, you’re playing the victim card again, and now you’re acting like a saint!” “Do you honestly think that throwing a breakup tantrum will make me crawl back to you?” ‘Playing the victim.’ He said it again. I touched the bandage on my back, which was now completely soaked with fresh blood. “Harvey Williams,” I said his name, my voice eerily calm. “You think I’m playing the victim?” “Why don’t you check the local news?” “A multi-car pileup on the mountain highway. A female rescue doctor was crushed by a boulder while protecting a patient.” “Oh, and enjoy your ski trip in Switzerland with Chloe.” “I didn’t know someone with severe clinical depression could ski in the Alps.” “I just hope she doesn’t break her neck on the slopes.” “Maya! How dare you curse her—” I hung up before he could finish. Then, I blocked his number. I deleted him from WhatsApp, Snapchat, Instagram, and every other platform. I erased him from my life. Once done, I threw my phone into the trash can. I grabbed my worn-out canvas bag and walked to the door. I took one last look at the “home” I had carefully decorated over the past three years. The cushions on the sofa were hand-stitched by me. The plants on the balcony were nurtured by me. Even the crystal chandelier was wiped clean, crystal by crystal, by my own hands. Now, it all looked like a giant, pathetic joke. I opened the door. Outside, the storm was still howling, blowing rain onto my face. I didn’t take an umbrella. I just stepped out into the dark, wet night. The cold rain hit my wound, making my entire body shudder in pain. But my spine was perfectly straight. Suddenly, a black Maybach screeched to a halt in front of the building. The door opened, and Harvey’s assistant, Carter, ran out holding an umbrella, looking panicked. “Miss Maya! Where are you going?” Carter gasped when he saw how soaked and pale I was. Then, his eyes fell on my back, and he let out a horrified shriek. “Oh my god! Miss Maya, your back… it’s covered in blood!” I gave him a cold, empty look. “Are you here to pick up Harvey’s stuff?” Carter nodded nervously. “Mr. Williams said… he said Miss Chloe forgot her antidepressants. He asked me to retrieve them. He also said…” “What did he say?” “He said… he said you should stop standing in the rain to play the victim. He said he’ll give you an explanation when he gets back from Switzerland.” I let out a soft laugh, the first genuine smile on my face all night. “An explanation?” I adjusted the strap of my bloody canvas bag on my shoulder. “Go tell Harvey.” “I don’t need his explanations anymore.” “He’s free.”
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