Three days before my surgery, I scrolled past a post. The title read, What do you do when you fall for someone else while trying to save the one you love?

I clicked in, just to kill time.

The top answer ran long. His fiancée had leukemia, and recently he'd finally found a perfect bone-marrow match.

The girl told him she was timid, terrified of the operation, so he flew out and stayed with her for three months.

Little by little, her innocence won him over.

Watching her smile, he suddenly couldn't bear to send her up onto an operating table.

Every detail in that post lined up with mine.

My fiancé, Phineas Harding, had vanished for three full months when my illness worsened, when I was scared and helpless, using a business trip as his excuse.

He said she was timid. He'd forgotten that I was the one gravely ill, that I could be afraid too.

What he didn't know was that I didn't need his rescue.

In those three months, my parents had found me a suitable donor as well.

I would travel across the world and be reborn.

——

When the doctor came by for his routine check, I called him back, my voice low.

"Could I borrow your phone for a second?"

To keep close tabs on my condition, Phineas had added a few of the doctors and nurses as contacts.

I took the phone and opened his profile.

His posts showed me only the last three days.

I used to think he just wasn't one for sharing online. It never crossed my mind that this three-month blackout was aimed at one person. Me.

Before he left, Phineas had knelt on one knee beside my hospital bed, holding my hand almost like a prayer.

"I'll bring you a surprise when I'm back. Be good and wait for me."

So the surprise he'd told me to wait for was watching his lies unravel with my own eyes.

I swiped, scrolling slowly down.

In three months, Phineas had posted over a hundred times.

He'd walked someone else through fields of spring flowers, strolled bustling night markets, ridden a Ferris wheel hand in hand under the sunset at an amusement park.

Most posts came as photo grids, and in nearly every one was a face, bright and alive.

A girl bursting with energy. She'd flash peace signs at the camera, puff up her cheeks and pout at Phineas.

Every shot was carefully chosen. The favoritism in them was impossible to hide.

The captions flowed soft as water.

"Your smile is the happiness that found me late."

"Don't be afraid. I'll be by your side the whole way."

Each picture, each line, was a fine silver needle pressed into my heart, the pain delicate and endless.

For three months, I'd been trapped in a stark white hospital room.

The sickness ground me down again and again. Through countless days and nights I'd curled up alone on that bed, every breath edged with pain.

And Phineas had put me out of his mind, guarding someone else's smile a thousand miles away.

I picked up my own phone and started a video call.

It connected almost instantly.

The image swayed, and I saw a noisy airport waiting lounge, crowds flowing past, alive with chatter.

Phineas's gentle face appeared on the screen soon after.

"You've lost weight again?" He searched my face, his voice quick with concern. "Are you feeling worse? I'll come back right away, I'll be there with you, don't be scared."

I watched him in silence and said nothing.

He started to say more, but a lively girl's voice cut him off.

"Phin, how much longer? My legs are killing me, I just want to board already."

On the other end, Phineas froze.

I let out a soft laugh and asked what I already knew. "Is that your sister?"

He fumbled, his hand jerking up on instinct to cover the lens.

"No, just a girl I met out here. She's timid, didn't dare come to a strange city alone, so I'm looking out for her."

"Is there really nothing you've been hiding from me?" I asked softly.

Phineas hadn't yet figured out how to brush me off when the girl's voice cut in again:

"Who are you on the phone with? Is it that fiancée of yours?"

She pitched her voice up on purpose, all sugary and coaxing. "Phin, can't you stop fussing over other people for once? I haven't even been to Searborough yet. You have to take me out more, okay?"

After that, Phineas didn't deny it right away.

He lowered his voice, smiling as he made his promise, "Don't be like that. Once we're settled, I'll take you out for dessert."

Something sour rose in my chest.

There was an intimacy in his words that crossed a line, and Phineas still thought I couldn't hear it.

Only once he'd soothed the girl did he turn his attention back to me:

"We're about to board. Beryl, be good. Wait for me to come back."

After gentling me along like a pet, he ended the call himself for the first time.

I fell back against the bed.

The registry's match text had already come through to my phone.

Two people had come back as preliminary matches.

One was that girl. The other was overseas.

And yet, over the phone, Phineas hadn't said a single word about the match.

The next day, I'd just finished breakfast when Phineas appeared in the doorway of my ward, travel-worn and rumpled.

He hugged me carefully, his voice aching with the kind of tenderness you give something fragile. "Beryl, you really have lost weight."

I murmured back, letting Phineas fuss around me, adjusting the bed.

But over his shoulder, I caught sight of a figure in the doorway.

The girl wore a brightly colored dress, fresh and radiant, wildly out of place in this hospital room.

Nothing like me, drained of life.

"Her name is Mona Carlton."

Phineas said it warmly, his warm fingertips brushing my cheek. "Still a college student. Quirky little thing. I'm sure you'll find her charming too."

His tone was easy and open, without a trace of guilt.

As if this girl who'd taken up three months of his time were just an ordinary friend.

Mona stepped into the room and tugged at Phineas's sleeve.

"Beryl, Phin's told me so much about you," she greeted sweetly.

Phineas lifted his hand right on cue and patted the top of her head.

Watching them, so easy and close, my heart sank, little by little.

"Phineas." I leaned back, slipping out of his arms. "I already got the text from the registry."

They both froze at once, and at the same instant looked away from me.

I pressed my pale lips together. "This Miss Mona must be the matched volunteer, then. Should she go get a physical first—"

"Beryl!" Phineas cut me off sharply.

My head snapped up.

It was the first time he'd ever been angry with me, and it was over a girl he'd known for all of three months.

Phineas knotted his brows and tucked Mona behind him:

"Mona's timid to begin with. Can't you stop cornering her with talk like that?"

She'd signed up herself, become a volunteer donor herself, and all I'd done was ask one question.

This was a pre-op step that had to do with my life.

In Phineas's eyes, though, it had become me deliberately giving her a hard time.

Mona instantly lowered her head and shrank behind Phineas, timid. Her fingers clutched the hem of her dress, her eyes rimmed red:

"I'm so sorry, Beryl. Is it me, being here, that's making you uncomfortable?"

I smiled and didn't answer her.

Phineas answered for me instead. "Of course not. Beryl's health has nothing to do with you."

Then he looked at me with something like disapproval:

"You frightened her."

Try as he might to hide it, I could still see the displeasure in his eyes.

"You lost your temper at me, over an outsider." I stated it plainly, just the fact. "Phineas, you promised you'd never snap at me."

Phineas blinked, then let out a small, helpless laugh.

He thought I was jealous. He lifted a hand to pinch my cheek, a light, indulgent exasperation in his voice.

"Beryl, stop fussing. What are you imagining now?"

"We've spoiled you too much, that's the problem. It's made you read too much into everything."

I turned away from his hand.

Lowering my eyes, I rubbed at the needle marks dotting my skin.

"Phineas, Miss Carlton came to Searborough because you promised to show her around. She isn't here to donate marrow at all, is she?"

The room went dead silent.

That silence said more than any excuse could.

I leaned back against the headboard and turned my gaze to the window, not looking at him anymore.

"I'd like to be alone for a while."

"Go take her sightseeing. Searborough is huge. Flower fields, night markets, theme parks, it has everything."

Anyone could see I was sulking.

And somewhere underneath it, I was hoping. Hoping he'd notice how hurt I was, that he'd stay and coax me out of it.

But Mona only dabbed at her eyes. "Phineas, let's just forget it. Beryl isn't well. It's fine if I skip the sightseeing."

If anything, those words made up his mind for him.

"This has nothing to do with you."

He cut her off, pressing his temple with a tired sigh. "I don't go back on my word. Don't put yourself through that."

The two of them walked out of the room side by side.

Phineas pulled the door shut behind him. The latch clicked, leaving me alone in a cold, empty world.

A nurse pushed the door open, medication in hand.

She looked at the empty room, a little confused. "Mr. Harding isn't with you? He just got back, didn't he? Why would he leave already?"

I gave a faint nod.

"Honestly, that man. You're about to have surgery and he does this?" The nurse muttered, disapproving. "And he brought a girl back with him, too."

"It's all right," I said softly.

The needle slid into pale, thin skin.

Every mark on my arms was proof of pain I'd ridden out alone.

My parents were running all over the world, chasing down doctors, searching for a marrow match for me.

The only one beside me was Phineas.

He'd proposed when we graduated college, and then I had the bad luck to be diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia.

Phineas swore on the spot that he would never abandon me.

At least both our families were well-off, with the means to pay for my treatment.

No worries about money, and a beautiful love to hold onto.

I used to believe that if I just fought hard enough against the illness, Phineas and I could walk into the future together.

Maybe I was simply too naive.

By the time the treatment was done, the sky had gone dark. The nurse smoothed the tape into place and gave me the usual reminders, no moving around, no getting too worked up.

"And stop dwelling on the things that upset you."

She was trying to comfort me. "Didn't the match come through overseas? Your father even called today, asking us to help get everything ready."

"Mm. My flight's tomorrow morning." I gave a small smile.

The nurse tucked in the corner of my blanket. "Is Mr. Harding buying his own ticket?"

I froze for a beat, and a hollow ripple spread through my chest.

I'd booked Phineas's ticket long ago. Same flight as mine, a window seat.

But I had no intention of giving it to him.

I shook my head, my voice flat. "There's no need. He isn't coming."

The nurse looked startled.

"You're still sick. How can you take a long international flight all by yourself?"

"I can manage on my own."

The hardest rounds of chemo I'd always carried alone, and the searing pain when the illness flared, I'd endured that alone too.

I'd never once cried out.

Whether he was there beside me or not, maybe it had stopped mattering a long time ago.