"Prepare for the surgery. Make sure it’s clean—leave no traces. I don’t want him to suffer more than necessary when he wakes up."
The doctor left in silence.
Virginia picked up her phone and sent a voice message to her assistant.
"Did the driver say anything? Make sure he doesn’t. Stick to the deal—give his family two million and move them out of the city. Bryan can’t know."
Tears welled in my eyes, soaking into the pillow.
Virginia continued wiping my body with warm water, again and again.
Yet, I couldn’t stop shivering.
So, the wedding I had dreamed of for five years was nothing more than a stepping stone for Hugh.
That car accident was no accident at all.
She had been clearing the path for Hugh—eliminating me, the obstacle.
The happiness and love I believed in were all illusions.
Lies and betrayal were the only truth between us.
I struggled to open my eyes.
But before I could, anesthesia flooded my veins.
As they wheeled me toward the operating room, Virginia gently pressed a kiss to my lips.
"Be good. It’ll be over soon, Bryan. I’ll be waiting for you."
Cold, sterile instruments pierced through my body.
My shattered heart turned cold.
When I opened my eyes again, I was already back in the ward.
There was still no feeling below my lower back.
Virginia sat by my bedside, her face filled with worry as she saw me wake up. She took my hand, pressing it gently against her cheek.
"Bryan? You're awake. Are you feeling any pain?"
"If you're uncomfortable, let me know. I’ll ask them to change your dressing."
Her voice carried the same tenderness as before, but her eyes held no warmth.
It's incredible what one person can do for another—how easily they can pretend.
I shook my head and lightly touched her weary brows.
"You didn’t sleep all night, did you? I’m fine. Get some rest."
Virginia didn’t think much of it, visibly relieved, and soon drifted off into sleep.
I reached for her phone on the bedside table and unlocked it.
The wallpaper was still our pre-wedding photo.
A social media app was left open in the background.
The top contact name: Hugh.
I tapped into the chat. Aside from a few playful cat emojis, the messages were all the same—photos of Hugh holding a child.
"Cassie called for her mommy again today. Even at her age, she already knows how beautiful her mother is. She’s going to be a heartbreaker when she grows up."
"Cassie had a great appetite today. She finished the cake you sent."