Chapter 3

3.

As I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder to leave, Sierra rushed over in a panic and grabbed my wrist.

“Hurry! Help me drive Hayden to the hospital!”

I instinctively pulled my hand back, wanting to refuse, but she was already dragging me down the driveway.

It turned out Hayden had tried to fry bacon for Sierra and splattered a few drops of hot oil onto his hand.

“I’m fine, Sierra. Don’t trouble Mr. Brooks,” Hayden murmured weakly.

I glanced at the back of his hand―it was barely a faint red mark.

“I told you to run it under cold water!” Sierra scolded frantically. “What if it blisters and leaves a scar?”

She dragged Hayden toward the sink with tears in her eyes.

Watching them, I unconsciously rubbed the thick, jagged burn scar on my right forearm.

Two years ago on Hayden’s birthday, Sierra hosted a huge party for him.

Hayden had deliberately tipped an entire pot of scalding hot coffee over my arm.

I cried out in agony, but Sierra immediately shoved Hayden behind her, checking him over before snapping at me.

“What are you screaming for? It’s just a splash! Stop ruining the party.”

She kicked me out of the living room, forcing me to take an Uber to the emergency room alone.

Because it was treated too late, the burn left a hideous, raised scar that itched painfully whenever it rained.

Sierra had never cared about my pain.

She wasn't incapable of caring; she just didn't care about me.

On the road to the ER, Sierra kept screaming at me to floor the gas pedal.

As we approached a busy intersection, she literally grabbed the steering wheel, demanding I run the yellow light.

A massive delivery truck barreled through the intersection, slamming straight into the driver's side.

A deafening ringing filled my ears. I slumped over the airbag, agony ripping through my crushed lower body.

“Zachary! Are you okay? Wake up!”

“Sierra… it hurts…”

Sierra was leaning over me, but the moment Hayden let out a faint whimper from the back, she spun around instantly.

The rear seats were reinforced with heavy-duty safety cages; he couldn't have suffered anything more than a mild bump.

“Hayden, don't scare me! Where does it hurt?”

Hayden gasped for air, gripping her hand tightly.

“I’m fine, Sierra… sorry for making you worry…”

Tears streamed down Sierra’s face as her voice cracked.

“Hang in there, Hayden! The ambulance will be here any second!”

When the paramedics arrived, Sierra barely had a scratch on her, but she aggressively blocked the team trying to cut me out of the wreckage.

“The passenger in the back is in critical condition! Treat him first!”

The paramedics checked Hayden, and their expressions instantly darkened.

“Ma'am, stop wasting our time! We have a severely trapped driver with crushed limbs! This man only has mild bruising!”

Sierra, who had never been spoken to like that, exploded on the spot.

“How dare you talk to me like that? Do you know who I am? Which hospital do you work for?”

To defuse the situation, the medics quickly slapped a bandage on Hayden and loaded him into the second rig.

Sierra climbed in with him, but when she saw me covered in blood on the primary stretcher, she froze in guilt.

“You… you’ll be fine. We’re almost at the hospital.”

Hayden immediately chimed in with a remorseful whimper: “I’m so sorry, Mr. Brooks. If I hadn't burned my hand, Sierra wouldn't have made you drive us, and this accident would never have happened.”

He blamed himself so theatrically that Sierra instantly shifted all her attention back to soothing him, never glancing at me again.

When the nurse beside me asked if she was my emergency contact, I closed my eyes and said nothing.

If I could, I would have denied knowing her at all.

Yet this cold-blooded woman was the wife I had sworn to love.

What a pathetic joke.