Chapter 1
525words
Seven-thirty in the evening. He'd promised to be home by six.
Her phone screen dimmed and lit up again, displaying her last message: "Vic, the food's getting cold. Where are you?"
Each time the elevator dinged outside the door, her heart leapt with hope only to crash again.
Finally, her phone buzzed—not Victor Fuller, but that all-too-familiar name: Lily Woods.
"Miss Wright, I'm so sorry! I suddenly collapsed from acute gastroenteritis, and Vic rushed me to the hospital. He probably won't make it to your birthday celebration tonight. Please don't be angry with him—if you need someone to blame, blame my fragile health."
In the attached photo, Lily Woods lay dramatically on a hospital bed, face pale, one hand draped weakly across her forehead. And there, unmistakable in the background corner, was Victor Fuller's gray suit jacket!
A wave of anger and crushing disappointment surged through Emily. Her fingertips trembled as she struggled to hold the phone steady.
The call connected but rang several times before he finally answered.
"Emily," Victor Fuller's voice carried a rehearsed apologetic tone, hospital noise buzzing in the background. "I'm sorry, something urgent came up. I can't make it."
Emily's heart plummeted. "What happened?" she asked, her voice tight. "Something more important than our fifth anniversary?"
Victor paused, lowering his voice. "It's Lily. She has acute gastroenteritis and collapsed alone in her apartment. I just brought her to the hospital. She's still being examined, so I can't leave."
"Lily Woods." Emily uttered the name with bone-deep weariness. "So you're ditching our plans for her. Again."
"Emily! Can't you be more understanding?" Victor Fuller snapped, his tone sharp with impatience. "She's alone in this city without family! She's sick and collapsed—it's serious! How could I not help? You're my girlfriend—you should understand and support me!"
"Understanding?" Emily let out a hollow laugh as her eyes filled with tears. "Victor Fuller, how much more understanding should I be? Last winter when I had a 103-degree fever, shaking uncontrollably, you were showing her the river view because she felt down—and told me to drink hot tea! On our first anniversary, you left me sitting alone in the theater because she called about a thunderstorm! Now it's our fifth anniversary. I spent a week cooking all your favorite dishes from scratch! She always needs you, and I'm always left waiting!"
"Enough, Emily Wright!" Victor Fuller cut her off harshly. "I don't have time for this guilt trip! The hospital's crazy right now, Lily needs someone with her, and I don't have time to argue! Just eat without me, and I'll call you later!"
"Victor Fuller, you—"
*Beep—beep—beep*
The dial tone pierced her eardrum like an ice pick, freezing her last shred of hope.
She slumped into her chair, staring at the dishes slowly losing their warmth. Picking up her fork, she took a bite of cold sweet and sour ribs, the meat turning to ash in her mouth.
