3: 3

"Muriel needs her burn dressed."

The electronic queue number rang out, drowning the last of the words I'd forced out of myself.

Blake picked the report off the floor, gave it a careless glance, and ruffled the top of my head.

"Let me get that hopeless girl treated first. Be good and wait for me."

Wait for him. Again.

I reached out and caught his wrist just as he started to turn.

"Don't go yet. There's something I need to say to you, clearly."

He looked down at my hand, and something flickered fast in his eyes, an irritation that a heartbeat later was buried under anger.

His voice came cold and disappointed.

"Georgia! I always thought you were the most reasonable person I knew. Chasing me all the way to the hospital and making a scene over a venue, and now what else do you want?"

My fingers froze around his wrist.

The startled look he'd worn earlier, I'd been naive enough to read as him noticing how bad I looked. It turned out he only thought I was clinging, blaming me for refusing to let go.

The pain in my chest crawled out into my arms and legs, denser and denser, until it swallowed the cramping in my belly.

I slowly loosened my grip and let out a low laugh, my vision blurring until I couldn't make out his face.

"The last time you called me by my full name like that," my throat tightened, tasting of blood, "you said, Georgia, marry me."

Blake stiffened, his steps halting, some of the anger draining out of his eyes.

He sighed helplessly and reached out, out of habit, to circle my shoulders and pull me against him.

"All right, my jealous little thing. I raised my voice, I'll admit that. Stop this now, okay?"

The warm arms around me didn't ease a single ache. I gently pulled free.

"Blake, let's break up."

The words had barely left me when Muriel hurried forward and laid both hands over the back of mine.

"Georgia, I'm the clumsy one who got scalded. This is all my fault. Please don't be angry with Blake over it."

She lifted her eyes and stole a glance at him, some small tender feeling hidden underneath, her voice going softer still.

"Back then I was the one who wronged him. I couldn't hold up under the pressure, and I left when he was at his lowest. All these years, I've carried the guilt. I never imagined my promotion party would end up throwing your wedding into chaos…"

Every apology was another reminder to Blake: this old, youthful regret still weighed on her.

His face darkened at once, his brow knotting, and whatever faint, barely-there hesitation my breakup had stirred vanished in an instant.

"Don't bring up the past!"

I watched the whole clumsy performance and felt nothing but how absurd it was. I lifted my eyes and looked straight at him.

"Blake, you keep saying you want nothing to do with her, yet everything you do ties the two of you together for life!"

Confusion crossed his eyes.

"Georgia, what are you talking about? How could I possibly…"

"You couldn't? The wedding date you picked, isn't it her birthday?"

I shook Muriel's hand off and pointed straight at her face.

"You were going to have me put on a wedding dress and marry you on your ex-girlfriend's birthday! You make me sick."

Blake's throat worked, his gaze skittering away, and not one word of denial came out.

Muriel's fragile act froze on her face too, panic flashing through her eyes before she stepped forward to soothe me.

Disgust and hurt rose up together, and I couldn't hold it in another second. I shoved the fake, sickening woman away hard.

There was a scream, and Muriel went down. Clear fluid seeped slowly from the back of her hand. Her eyes reddened in an instant, and she trembled with the pain, yet she bit down on her lip and didn't make a sound.

Blake's pupils shrank, his face going white in a breath.

He raised his hand almost the same instant, and without a moment's hesitation, swung it.

4: 4

The force of it whipped my head to the side.

My ears rang, and half my face went numb and hot at once.

Black swam across my vision. I stumbled back two steps and dropped straight down onto the tile.

"Blake! Why would you hit Muriel! I... I'm not hurt at all."

"Blake, I'm preg—"

Before I could finish, Blake strode over, bent down, and blew gently on the raw spot on Muriel's skin, his touch light, as if he were afraid of breaking something fragile.

"Still saying you're fine? Look how broken the skin is."

I sat on the floor, staring blankly at the two of them.

Something inside me was draining away, piece by piece, caving in.

"I'm taking her to clean and dress this first."

"I'll be with her on the trip these next few days. We'll be back after the promotion party the day after tomorrow. You use the time to think about what you've done!"

More than once I'd wanted to go on a business trip with him. Every time he'd turned me down with "it wouldn't be appropriate."

The dragging pain low in my belly grew heavier, and something warm slid slowly down the inside of my thigh.

Blake had already swept Muriel up into his arms. He didn't look back at me once.

Before I lost consciousness, I heard a panicked scream near my ear:

"Blood—"

...

The night of Muriel's promotion party, the room was full of guests, everything blazing with light.

The two of them stood together in matching business suits, a strikingly well-matched pair.

Someone at the table teased,

"Mr. Gilbert, you dote on Director Pruitt far too much. No wonder everyone says the two of you never got over each other."

Blake gave a low laugh, his tone cool and distant.

"It's just professional courtesy."

His eyes swept the room. He didn't find me anywhere.

He found Jamie, a colleague I was close to. "Have you seen Georgia?"

Jamie had just opened her mouth when a hotel server stepped quickly to Blake's side and handed him a package.

"Mr. Gilbert, this is a rush delivery from the hospital. They said it had to go into your hands personally."

Blake's face went still for a second, and an uneasy premonition crept up from somewhere he couldn't name.

Before he could tear the package open, Muriel gave his arm a little shake, her voice soft.

"Blake, it's time to toast the executives. Oh... a file from the hospital."

She spread her hands and gave a helpless little laugh.

"It's been three days already. Georgia still hasn't gotten over it? She really is just like you said. Such a child."

Pulled back by her, Blake set the file down without a thought, tapping his fingertip against the surface, full of certainty.

"The hospital called me a couple of days ago and I didn't pick up. She's probably still sulking at me."

"I'll take some time off later, take her to Disneyland, buy her the things she loves. A couple of soft words and she'll come around."

In his eyes, all of this was just me acting up to get his attention, throwing a little tantrum.

Through the toasts that followed, he kept checking his watch.

He left early, going out of his way to stop at a dessert shop for the strawberry cake I loved most.

Then he bought a bouquet of the sunflowers I loved best.

"Georgia, I'm home."

"Stop being angry. Look what I brought you."

No answer.

An inexplicable dread rose in him. He walked quickly into the bedroom and shoved the closet door open, and his heart skipped a beat.

Inside it was empty.

Panic shot up from the soles of his feet through his whole body and clamped down hard on his heart.

The sunflowers and the cake hit the floor. He tore the package open roughly, and when he saw what was inside, his pupils shrank to points.