It turned out, he really did expect me to follow.

In the hospital room, Peggy curled into Bryan's embrace, sobbing softly as she stretched out a trembling hand for the injection.

"Bryan, I'm scared."

He was infinitely patient with her, soothing her in a voice I had never heard before.

For a moment, I drifted back to the past.

I had been just like her once—a delicate girl afraid of pain.

When we first started dating, I caught a cold and needed an injection. I nestled into his arms, hoping for comfort.

But he had pulled away in disgust.

"A grown woman afraid of needles? How pathetic."

The needle had pierced my wrist, but it was my heart that had truly been stabbed that day.

Over time, I stopped fearing injections.

Now, I feared nothing. Not pain, not losing love—nothing at all.

I watched Bryan in silence, but he kept stealing glances at me.

When he saw my indifference, his expression darkened.

If I so much as showed a flicker of unhappiness, he smirked in satisfaction.

And that was when I realized—his tenderness toward Peggy wasn't about love.

It was about me.

As if he needed me to see it, to react.

What was the point of playing these games when he didn't love me?

I shook my head, tired of this charade, and stood to leave.

But the moment I got up, the room spun violently.

I had only received half my IV treatment, and my fever was still raging.

Before I could steady myself, Bryan abandoned Peggy and grabbed my wrist, forcing me back against the wall.

Pain shot through my wrist and my pounding head, but he didn't care.

Instead, his lips curled in satisfaction.

"So much for acting like you don't care. Just admit it, Lydia. You're obsessed with me. That's why you can't let go."

I opened my mouth to retort, but before I could say a word, the door behind me swung open.

I stumbled backward—

And fell into the warmth of a solid embrace.

I turned my head, and my breath caught.

That face—

It had been years.

He steadied me, his hand instinctively pressing against my forehead to check my temperature. Then, without hesitation, he turned to take me to a doctor.

But Bryan stepped in his way.

I was caught between them as tension crackled in the air.

Bryan's brow furrowed deeply. I knew that look all too well—he was furious.

"Who the hell are you? And what gives you the right to touch my wife?"

Luke Cameron laughed, calm and unbothered.

"My name is Luke. Lydia's best friend sent me."

He met Bryan's gaze head-on, voice unwavering.

"I'm her divorce lawyer. She won't be your wife much longer."

Bryan's pupils shrank.