The wounds burned like fire. Pain and fear shot through me, and a chill ran down my spine.

Rhys's figure disappeared into the chaos, swallowed by panicked screams.

Time blurred. It felt like an eternity before the event staff found me and called an ambulance. By the time I reached the hospital, glass shards were still embedded in my skin.

Every movement, every shallow breath, brought a new wave of searing pain. My hands trembled uncontrollably.

My head turned, my eyes desperately searching the bustling hallway for Rhys's face. After a moment, the cold reality sank in: he was with Tessa.

A kind-faced nurse bustled over with a cart. She prepared her instruments, and I watched as she picked up a syringe.

I was instantly on high alert.

"What's that?" I asked, my voice fragile.

"It's a sedative," she said gently. "We have to get all these glass shards out, and it's going to hurt like hell without it."

"No," I answered firmly. "I don't want it."

She looked at me in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"I'm pregnant," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "I'm worried the medication might affect the baby."

She understood immediately, her expression softening with sympathy.

"You'll have to be strong, then. I'll be as quick as I can."

The process of stitching my wounds was as agonizing as I had imagined. I gripped the arms of the chair, my knuckles white, and gritted my teeth through the entire ordeal. The pain was so intense that my body trembled with the effort to stay still.

Another nurse came to help, her voice chipper as she tried to distract me with small talk.

"There's a couple in the next room, also getting treated for injuries," she said with a dramatic sigh. "That girl is so lucky. The guy is a CEO, handsome, and so devoted. She's been crying the whole time, and he's been holding her and whispering in her ear."

My nurse looked up. "Without anesthesia?"

"Of course they gave her some. Didn't help, she just kept crying."

My nurse snorted. "Spoiled rotten. Look at my patient here—no meds, and not a single peep. Tough as nails."

A bitter smile touched my lips, though I couldn't hold back my tears. They streamed down my face, silent and hot.

Rhys used to tease me for being a coward about pain. Whenever I so much as scraped a knee, he was always more nervous than I was. He would disinfect and clean the wound, bandaging it with practiced ease, and then pull me against his chest, soothing me until I calmed down.

Even now, he still had that tenderness. It just wasn't for me anymore.

When the nurse finally announced, "All done," I nearly collapsed with relief.

She gave me some instructions. "Keep the wound dry. Take some painkillers if it hurts badly... Oh, wait. You can't take those. You're pregnant."

A familiar scent filled the small room, a sharp mix of his signature cologne and sterile air.

Rhys had arrived.

"What did you just say? Who's pregnant?"

His voice came from behind me, full of an urgency that made my heart race.

I shot the nurse a warning look and quickly said, "She said I'm not pregnant, so I can take the painkillers."

His expression changed, the tension draining away, replaced by a hint of disappointment.

"I thought for a second you were."

"Nothing like that," I mumbled, staring at the bandages on my arm, trying hard not to let the tears fall.

Rhys looked at the bloodstains mottling my white dress, his eyes clouded with guilt.

"Sloane, I'm so sorry," he said. "Tessa's old injury makes her more fragile. She… she needed me more in that moment. You're going to be my wife; you're strong."

A lump clogged my throat, making speech impossible. I managed a small smile. "I know."

He frowned, gently tracing a finger over my stitches.

"Does it hurt?" he asked. "You were always so afraid of scars."

My nose stung. I took a deep, shaky breath, fighting back the wave of emotion.

"I'm fine." The words were incredibly difficult to get out.

"I'll present the Star of Sterling to you properly at the wedding."

Before he could finish, his phone rang. He listened for a moment, his face growing tense. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

"I have to go," he said, a new urgency in his voice. "I'm taking Tessa home. She's shaken up… she needs someone with her."

"I'll have my driver take you. Go home and rest. Don't wait up for me."

He was gone before the words had even settled.

I didn't get home until the early hours of the morning. I collapsed onto the bed, tears streaming down my face until my eyes were red and swollen.

Rhys was a man of his word, a man of responsibility, but he was no longer mine.

I didn't need the Star of Sterling necklace anymore.

Five days left. Then I could leave.