Chapter 5
“Wayne, you’re so full of yourself. Have you been watching too many dramas?
“What makes you think I’d forgive you, just because you were worried about your childhood crush being unsafe at the hotel, so you turned back to find her on the way to dinner and left me behind?
“What makes you think I’d forgive you for grabbing Nikita’s hand during an avalanche and leaving me there?
“And what makes you think I’d forgive you for spending the night with her, sneaking out of Switzerland behind my back, and leaving me alone in a foreign country?”
Each question made Wayne’s face darker.
Everyone else in the room exchanged awkward glances.
I didn’t care. I kept going.
“Wayne, I was buried under the snow for three hours. I was one step from death. You know what I was thinking? I thought, once I get out, I’m going to ask you if you ever thought of me while running off with Nikita.”
I let out a calm laugh.
“But it’s fine now. It doesn’t matter anymore. Being with someone like you, I don’t know if I should fear disasters or the person next to me more.”
Wayne stumbled a few steps toward me and grabbed my hand.
“Honey, I was wrong. I didn’t realize how much it affected you.
“It all happened so fast. I really didn’t notice you right away.”
I pulled my hand back, took a step away, and looked him straight in the eye.
“No. It’s not that you didn’t notice. It’s that I wasn’t worth noticing.
“Like when we landed in Switzerland-you didn’t care that I was pale and sick. You wouldn’t even let me have a proper meal. But you worried about Nikita being unsafe in a hotel.
“Like when I got back from being buried under snow, all I wanted was to sleep. And you tried to force-feed me clam chowder I hate.
“To you, my needs don’t count. My choices don’t matter.
“I think that’s enough for today. If you want to go to the courthouse, call me. If it’s about anything else, don’t bother. I
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Chapter 5
have nothing more to say to you.”
I gave a cold smile and nodded toward the crowd.
“Enjoy your food. Bye.”
I turned to leave. Wayne rushed after me.
Suddenly, someone shouted behind us.
“Wayne! Hurry! Something’s wrong with Nikita!
“Nikita, stay awake! Can you still hear us?
“Wayne, come quick! It’s her heart again! We can’t find her meds!”
Wayne stopped mid-step.
He looked at me, apologetic. “Sorry, Honey. It’s a life. I can’t just stand by.”
Then he turned around and rushed toward Nikita, pulling a white bottle of pills from his pocket.
I let out a cold laugh. He carried the bottle with him the whole time-and he still says that to me?
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