Chapter 1

1 After I took that tumble down the stairs, David finally decided to play nurse.

Except, he bailed on me practically at the hospital door, saying some big client needed him back at the office.

So, there I was, hobbling around on a busted leg, trying to pay the bills myself when I saw it �C a picture Sarah, his childhood best friend, posted of him putting a bandage on her, captioned:

"Who's the klutz who scraped her knee? David couldn't stop laughing!"

Yeah, no big client emergency there.

Our mutual friends were radio silent.

So, I just hit "like" and commented:

"A damsel in distress needs a knight in shining armor. You two should just get together already."

...

David? He's a total workaholic.

So, when he said he had a client emergency, I actually bought it.

I even told him to focus on work and not worry about me.

But then, hobbling down to pay the hospital bills, I saw Sarah's post: him kneeling in front of her, doctoring up a scraped knee.

Her caption: "Who's the klutz who scraped her knee? David couldn't stop laughing!"

My throat just closed up.

We had a huge fight about it, and he got all impatient with me.

"You get so worked up over everything. If I'd told you the truth, would you have been able to relax and focus on getting better?"

After that, radio silence.

That night, I woke up screaming from the pain during surgery, since the anesthesia didn't work well on me.

Coming out of the operating room, no one was there to give me a hand. A kind nurse helped me downstairs.

David still hadn't answered my messages.

There I was, dragging my heavy leg, trying to manage work and run back and forth to pay bills and pick up meds.

The nurse felt bad for me and did all my errands for me.

When I got discharged, David texted:

"I'm coming to get you."

I knew what that meant. He wanted to sweep everything under the rug.

That's how it always was with us.

He hated fighting. Every time I brought up Sarah, he'd give me the silent treatment.

Then, when he was ready to move on, he'd reach out.

By then, I'd be worn down and over it. He knew he could get away with it.

Sometimes it was three days, sometimes it was half a month.

Normally, I'd be thrilled he was finally making time for me.

But now? I just felt numb.

These last few days alone had given me a lot of time to think.

I just texted back: "No need, I already checked out."

He immediately replied:

"I'll come pick you up!"

"No, I'll take a cab."

"I'm already on my way. I'll be there in half an hour."