1: 1

On our seventh anniversary, Marlin Delgado and I, I was thrown back ten years into the past.

I caught hold of him in his white coat and asked one question:

"Marlin, why did you give up surgery to become a stylist?"

Ten years from now, Marlin would kiss the top of my head and give me the answer.

He told me I was a model, and he wanted to design the makeup, the hair, the clothes that suited me, all with his own hands.

But right now, I wanted to hear what a Marlin who didn't know me yet would say.

Before he could get a word out, a girl from the inpatient ward came stumbling over and threw her arms around his waist.

"Marlin, I don't want treatment anymore. Cancer can't be cured."

"Don't waste your time on me, okay?"

Marlin's arm came around her waist on instinct, and he soothed her in a low voice.

"I'm a doctor. You have to trust me. I'll cure you, I promise."

I stood frozen where I was and let my eyes travel over her, inch by inch.

Her hairstyle, her figure, her clothes were exactly the same as mine ten years later.

So Marlin hadn't switched careers to become a stylist for me.

He only wanted to shape me, with his own hands, into Carmen Fox's replacement.

1

Marlin gentled the girl in his arms, his fingertips brushing the tear tracks from the corners of her eyes.

"Carmen, let's go take your medicine first. Once you take it, you'll slowly get better."

Before Carmen could answer, he slid one arm around her back and the other under her knees, and lifted her straight up into his arms.

And I, standing in that cold, dim corridor, suddenly remembered countless exhausted late nights.

Every time I'd shot a spread in heels four or five inches high until I was wrung out, too worn out to stay on my feet, I'd held my arms out to him too, coaxing.

"Marlin, hold me."

But every time, he bent down instead, swapped my shoes for a pair of flats, and said softly:

"Elle Prescott, we're in public. What if someone gets a photo?"

"Be good. I'll give you a massage when we get home."

Back then I always thought he was a quiet, restrained man.

Only now, watching his back as he carried Carmen farther and farther away, did I finally understand: he just didn't want to hold me.

A nurse passing by saw me standing there for a long while and couldn't resist coming over.

"You're hoping to win Dr. Delgado over too, aren't you? Take my advice and give it up now. Everyone in our department knows there's only one person in Dr. Delgado's heart, and that's Miss Fox."

"For Miss Fox's sake, he's turned the hospital into his home. He eats, drinks, and sleeps here."

"You know, plenty of girls have tried to get close to him before, but he sent them packing himself, before Miss Fox ever had to step in."

Her words brought back the Marlin from ten years later. Back then he'd kept the same clear lines drawn.

He never let another woman get near him. Even in ordinary work situations, the moment someone leaned in a little too close, that faint distaste would come back into his expression.

I used to feel a private thrill over that. I thought I was special to him.

Only now, looking at that nurse's face and how ordinary all of this was to her, did it hit me.

He didn't let other women near him because he was simply that kind of man, careful about where the lines were.

And the reason he let me near him was only that I looked seventy percent like Carmen Fox.

I went cold all over, like I'd fallen into a bottomless pit and would never climb out.

Seeing that I didn't react, the nurse lifted her chin toward the direction the two of them had gone and added one more thing:

"See that office? That's where Dr. Delgado lives now. It faces Miss Fox's room directly."

"He even put in a special request with the director to switch rooms, just so he'd hear the moment Miss Fox called for him."

A ringing filled my ears. Whatever the nurse said after that, I could no longer make it out.

A sharp pain shot through the place where my heart was. My knees gave way, the whole world lost its color and sound in an instant, and I fell straight backward.

The nurse beside me cried out in a panic, and then came the rush of hurried footsteps.

"Someone come quick, there's a person collapsed over here! Wake up, wake up!"

2: 2

When I opened my eyes again, I was already lying in a hospital bed.

The wringing pain in my chest hadn't eased while I was out. If anything it was worse, like a hand had reached into my ribs, and every breath came with pain.

"Ms. Prescott, you're awake?" The nurse from before was still beside me, and the moment she saw my eyes open she hurried to hand me a cup of warm water. "Dr. Lambert says this is a textbook case of broken heart syndrome."

"I always thought that word only turned up in soap operas. I never knew someone could actually hurt this badly."

I took the cup and said nothing.

Just then the light at the door dimmed.

Marlin Delgado pushed the door open and came in. His eyes settled on my face, and his tone was flat.

"Any prior heart conditions?"

I looked at that face, so familiar and so unfamiliar, and stared for a long moment before I slowly shook my head, my voice dry and rasping.

"No. My health has always been fine."

His brow drew together slightly, and he said, offhand,

"Just been through a breakup?"

I lowered my eyes and didn't answer.

Did it count as a breakup?

It didn't seem to count at all.

By some mistake of fate I had simply gone back ten years, and stumbled onto the truth I'd believed in all along.

Seeing me stay silent, Marlin explained mildly,

"There's a condition in medicine called broken heart syndrome. It's a form of acute stress-induced cardiomyopathy."

"When a person goes through extreme grief and their emotions collapse violently, stress hormones surge in the body and briefly damage the heart muscle. It can bring on fainting and severe chest pain."

He paused, then went on,

"We'll keep you here for observation for a while."

He had barely finished when a loud crash came from the room across the hall.

The composed, unhurried Marlin of a second ago went white in an instant.

He dropped the chart in his hand almost on reflex and bolted for the door.

"Carmen, what happened? Where did you hit yourself?"

The panic in that voice, the ache, the tremor. In the ten years I'd known him, I had never once heard any of it.

The chest that had already been wringing with pain felt like it had been stabbed all over again.

I couldn't help curving forward, dragging in one huge breath after another.

"Oh dear..."

The nurse beside me sighed and shook her head, pity in her voice.

"You have to wonder. Miss Fox, young and beautiful, perfectly fine, and then she gets hit with something like this?"

"Late-stage cancer. I heard there isn't even a chance for surgery... Dr. Delgado's been throwing his whole life away for her these past weeks."

The nurse's words were like a blunt knife working through flesh.

I bit down hard on my lower lip, until I tasted blood, and only then managed to force down the sob in my throat.

I really couldn't listen to another one of her sighs, so I threw off the blanket and got out of bed.

"I'm going to walk around a bit."

The nurse didn't stop me, only called out a couple of reminders.

"Don't go far. Come back and rest soon."

I nodded and fled, almost, up to the top floor.

The night wind chilled me, and stirred my thoughts into a mess.

My head was in chaos. One moment it was the Marlin of ten years later, gentle and restrained, who had come specifically to apply as my personal stylist. The next it was the Marlin of now, calmly practicing medicine, losing his composure for no one but Carmen Fox.

Before I knew it, the sky had gone fully dark.

I was just about to head downstairs when a sound of footsteps came from behind me.

Marlin stood there in the darkness, reeking of alcohol, drunk out of his mind.

He stared at me, his voice thick with tears.

"When you go through a breakup, how do you manage your emotions? Can you help me? I can't hold on much longer."

I froze where I stood, my heart clenching all at once.

He slid slowly down against the rooftop wall to the ground, dug both hands into his hair, and suddenly broke down sobbing.

"She says it hurts. She says she doesn't want treatment anymore..."

"I'm a doctor. I studied all those years, I've held the scalpel so many times, so why can't I save her? Why..."

I was in too much pain to make a single sound.

The Marlin I knew never shed a single tear.

Even when I lay half-dead in front of him after a car accident, he had only frowned faintly and calmly tended to my wounds.

There wasn't a trace of panic in him, and he never once cried for me.

I couldn't bear to watch him break down and weep any longer. I turned and stumbled away, rushing all the way down the stairs.

Only once I reached the ground floor did the suffocating, dull ache in my chest ease a little.

"You ran so fast. Were you afraid he'd see you crying?"

A weak but smiling woman's voice sounded behind me.

I whipped around and saw Carmen Fox standing not far away. I hadn't noticed when she'd gotten there.

3: 3

By the dim light of the stairwell I studied her closely, and in that moment I realized how much more we looked alike than I'd thought.

Illness had left her pale and drawn, but the shape of her face and the way her hair fell were exactly like mine.

The twisting pain in my chest, which had only just begun to ease, surged up again, and without thinking I braced myself against the wall.

She walked slowly up to me and said softly,

“Elle? I'm sorry. I didn't come to find you to cause trouble.”

“I only wanted to ask you something. You like Marlin, don't you?”

I stared at her and said nothing.

I didn't want to lay this twisted love at the feet of a girl who had so little time left.

None of this was her fault. The one at fault was the man who was using me as a stand-in.

“I know you like him. The way you look at him is exactly the way I look at him.”

As she said it her voice grew urgent, and she reached out as if to grab hold of me, then let her hand fall weakly back.

“Elle, after I'm gone, will you take care of him for me?”

I stood there staring at Carmen Fox, and the whole thing struck me as utterly absurd.

In a way, she and Marlin were rather alike.

One of them wanted a stand-in to numb himself; the other, afraid of his grief, wanted the stand-in to stay by his side.

She bit her lip, her eyes rimmed red, and forced the words out through a sob,

“He seems mature, but he's actually so childish. The smallest thing sets him off, and he gets stuck in his own head……”

“When I'm gone, he's sure to cry. And once he's cried, he'll bottle it up. He'd never let anyone see.”

“He's afraid of the dark, too. He hates being alone. At night he always needs a light on to fall asleep.”

With every word she said, my heart sank a little further.

The Marlin I remembered was always calm, always level-headed.

But it turned out that was only because he never needed to show me anything fragile.

His childishness, his fears—all of it belonged only to the Carmen Fox standing in front of me.

The dull ache in my chest swelled harder, and I cut her off, my voice hoarse.

“I don't like Marlin. You've got the wrong person.”

I couldn't bear to look at the shock in her eyes, and even less could I bear to admit that I was nothing but a pitiful replacement.

Like some disgraced coward, I turned and fled.

I ran the whole way back to my room, hastily swallowed the medicine the nurse had brought, and had just started to lie down when a panicked screaming rose up from below.

“Someone jumped!”

“It's Miss Fox—Carmen Fox jumped!”