"Ryan, Laura's ankle is seriously injured. Let me park first," Diana said, trying to stay calm.

Through the lowered window, Ryan's gaze flicked toward me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You're hurt too?"

I didn't respond. I just turned my face away. It was clear that he hadn't even noticed my injury, not even after I'd taken that brutal fall. Stacey, on the other hand—he was all over her.

"Ryan, let Laura park first," Stacey's soft voice came from the Bentley. "I'm fine, really. It doesn't hurt."

I glanced up and saw the jacket draped over her shoulders.

'Ryan's jacket...'

A knot tightened in my chest, sharp and painful.

I knew that jacket all too well. Ryan was obsessed with cleanliness; he never let anyone touch his clothes, especially me.

Once, I'd caught a cold after a show and borrowed his coat to warm up. He'd thrown it in the trash afterward, saying he didn't like things touched by other people.

But clearly, some people were allowed that privilege.

When Ryan heard Stacey, his expression darkened, and his patience wore thin. "Move aside, now. Immediately."

"Ryan, Laura's really hurt!" Diana snapped, confused by his reaction.

"I said move!" Ryan's voice was sharp, and he turned on Diana with a cold glare. "I'm your boss, remember?"

Then, he gave me a look that made it clear I'd better keep my assistant in line.

I was done.

"Let them go first," I said, closing my eyes, my voice weary. I didn't have the energy to argue anymore.

As the Bentley pulled past us, it scraped against my car with a loud, grating noise. My ankle was struck again, and the pain shot through me so sharply that I almost blacked out.

I tried to steady myself but couldn't help but glance over. And there it was.

As if she hadn't just been in pain herself, Stacey leaned over and kissed Ryan's cheek. "Ryan, you're so good to me."

His voice softened, and my stomach churned as he replied, "For you, it's all worth it."

Right then, an icy coldness spread from my chest, sinking my body.

When Diana helped me to the orthopedic department, I ran into them again. Ryan and Stacey had already seen the doctor and were preparing to leave.

My number was called just as they were about to walk out. Wincing with every step, I hobbled toward the door, but then I heard it—Stacey's soft cry of pain.

"Be gentle..." she whispered.

I turned my head, and my blood ran cold.

There they were. With that same gentle touch he used to reserve for me, Ryan was massaging her ankle.

And there she was, teary-eyed as if she were the one in pain. Ryan's face darkened as he scooped her up, ready to push past me and enter the exam room.

"What's going on here?" the doctor asked, frowning as he approached. "You've already been checked. She should be seen now."

Ryan's temper flared. "How did you examine her? Didn't you see how much pain she's in?"

The doctor looked frustrated. "I told you, she just has a small abrasion. There's no damage to the bones."

Ryan ignored him, not even listening. His gaze flicked toward me, and momentarily, I thought I saw a flicker of hesitation.

"Someone like her," the doctor snapped, pointing at me, "who can't even walk is the one who needs treatment, not her. Understand?"

Ryan stood frozen, eyes shifting uncomfortably, but before he could respond, the doctor gestured toward me. "You can go in now."

Still, in Ryan's arms, Stacey spoke up, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I'm fine, Ryan. Honestly, it doesn't hurt that much. The doctor just wants to help Laura. Let's not make this harder on them."

She looked up at him with tears streaming down her face, and the sight made my stomach turn.

Ryan’s face went pale with fury. He stepped forward, shoving me roughly aside, looming over the doctor. "You will examine her again carefully. Or I'll have my legal team sue you."

I didn't have time to react before I was shoved off balance, stumbling several steps. My injured ankle twisted again, and the pain was so intense I collapsed onto the floor with a cry.

Ryan turned, hearing me fall, his expression a mix of surprise and confusion. He stepped toward me as if to help, but Stacey tugged at his sleeve, stopping him.

"Slow down, Ryan," she said, her voice dripping with fake concern. "My chest is so tight. I feel a little... uneasy."

Ryan immediately pulled his foot back, his expression shifting to one of concern. "Is your heart bothering you again? I'll take you for an exam first."

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the department, his back to me, never sparing me even a glance.

On the other hand, Stacey couldn't resist throwing one last glance over her shoulder.

A smug smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she mouthed:

'Laura, your boyfriend, is really thoughtful.'

The words stung. I felt a sharp ache in my chest, but I couldn't bring myself to look away from him as he walked out, his arm around her.

"Laura, are you okay?" Diana's voice broke through my thoughts as she helped me up. I winced, the sharp pain from my ankle making my stomach flip, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the cold emptiness settling in my heart.

I stood there, watching Ryan's figure disappear down the hallway, and despite all the disappointment, a part of me still couldn't believe it.

He was the man I had loved for ten years.

Ten years...

When I was eighteen, my parents died in a car accident.

Afterward, I struggled with severe claustrophobia. It was darkness that wrapped around me, making it impossible to breathe and to think clearly.

But then, Ryan appeared.

He risked everything to save me that day—jumped into a malfunctioning elevator to pull me out.

I can still remember how he bled from the cuts on his arm, his voice shaky but filled with concern, asking, "You're not hurt, are you?"

From that moment on, he became my light, my rescue, the one who helped me break free from my fears.

Despite Jeremy's warnings, I left the villa to live with him. Ryan was still struggling, barely getting by. He'd stay up late drawing sketches, working toward giving us a better future. Even though most of his designs sold for next to nothing, he was always positive.

"I'll give you a better life, Laura. If I fall in love with someone else, I'll never have a good ending," he promised me once.

Those words still echoed in my mind, and for so long, I believed them. I thought we would grow old together, happy and in love.

But now… now I couldn't help but wonder if it was all just an illusion.

The coldness of the moment snapped me back to reality, and after my ankle was bandaged, I left the hospital, ignoring the doctor's warnings to stay longer. I just wanted to get home, to escape the mess that had become my life.

But when I stepped into the elevator, things took another turn. Just as the doors were about to close, the elevator stopped. The lights flickered and then went out, leaving me in total darkness. Instantly, I felt the familiar pressure in my chest, the tightness that came with my claustrophobia. I couldn't breathe.

Then, the sound of a knock on the door shattered the silence.

"Is anyone in there?"

It was Ryan's voice.

Even though I felt crushed by disappointment, fear gripped me more. I was alone in this elevator and the thought of being stuck there without anyone to help him terrified me.

"Yes, it's me!" I called out, desperate for some kind of reassurance.

Ryan paused, and I could hear him trying to suppress his panic. "Wait for me. I'll get you out of there right away!"

I held onto that small hope. He knew about my claustrophobia. He had to come for me. He wouldn't leave me alone.

But just as that hope flickered, I heard a phone ringing outside.

"Ryan, you need to come quickly. Stacey's feeling really bad. The thunder scared her, and her heart… it's really bothering her."

Stacey's frail voice came through the phone. "Ryan, don't worry about me. I'm fine… Ah, it hurts!"

Hearing her in pain seemed to make Ryan shift instantly. His voice softened, filled with concern. "What nonsense are you talking about? You're not fine!"

I heard it—the unmistakable bias in his tone. And with it, the crushing realization that his focus was no longer on me.

"Laura, wait inside. I've called the security guard. They'll be there to help you soon."

The words stung more than they should have, and just as I tried to steady myself, a thunderclap rattled the elevator.

I froze.

The fear hit me like a wave, and I couldn't hold back the tears. My body went limp, and for the first time in years, I felt completely powerless.

Please don't leave me alone, I thought, but the pride I had worked so hard to hold onto shattered.

"Can you… can you not leave?" My voice came out in a broken whisper. "Please."

Ryan hesitated momentarily, but then the edge returned to his tone. "Laura, be good. Stacey could die if we don't take care of her. You know how serious her heart condition is."

Frustration and helplessness surged within me.

"And what about me?" I finally snapped, the tears flooding my eyes. "Don't you think I might die too, Ryan?"

"You just have claustrophobia. How could you possibly die from being locked in? Why are you being so dramatic?" Ryan snapped, standing up and walking out.

Just claustrophobia... He knew exactly how deep the shadow of my parents' deaths loomed over me. He knew that when I had an attack, it was more than just a panic and could be life-threatening.

I still remember those early days when he never once left my side.

He'd hold me tight in the elevator, whispering over and over again, "Don't be afraid."

But now? Now, I was nothing more than a nuisance, an overdramatic woman in his eyes.

My chest tightened as I fought for air. The walls seemed to close in.

"Go ahead, then. Let's break up," I muttered, barely able to get the words out.

Before I could finish, Ryan cut me off. "Whatever," he said coldly, not even looking back as he left.

His words echoed in my ears, and I shut my eyes, trying to push down all the emotions bubbling up inside me.

'Ryan, from now on... let's part ways. Let the bridge be the bridge, and the road be the road.'

By the time the security guards found me, I was already unconscious, in shock. The doctor said I might not have made it if they had been any later.

I woke up to the sterile smell of the hospital and the soft sound of Diana's voice.

"Where's Ryan?" she asked, her voice full of concern. She was standing by my bed, swiping through her phone, her expression growing angrier by the second.

I reached out and grabbed the phone from her hand.

A post from Stacey's Moments caught my eye.

[Maybe you're the only one who'd spoil me like this. One phone call, and you drop everything just to be here. I'm so touched.]

Ryan had commented: [You little liar, you almost scared me to death.]

My stomach twisted as I looked at the picture accompanying the post. It was Ryan with Stacy, cooking for her in a cozy kitchen.

So, Stacey didn't have a heart attack after all.

She'd lied, yet Ryan was still there, staying by her side. He had completely forgotten about me, trapped in that elevator, struggling for air.

A suffocating ache filled my chest. Fighting back tears, I grabbed Diana's phone again and drafted my resignation letter.

The door to my room opened as my fingers hovered over the "send" button.

Just in the afternoon, Ryan visited me. As he walked inside the room and said in anger, "How could you not take care of yourself? I was only gone for one night, and you got yourself hospitalized."

I stared at him, completely numb. Maybe it was the coldness in my eyes, but it seemed like something in him shifted.

He sighed long and picked up the congee from the food tray. "I made this for you," he said in concern. "Don’t tell me you don’t like vegetables in your chicken soup."

Before I could respond, Stacey walked in behind him. "Huh? Ryan, wasn't this the porridge I left over from this morning?"

I couldn't bear to watch their little act, their rehearsed drama. I pushed the bowl of porridge away from me. "I'm not drinking it. You two can leave."

Stacey seemed to realize she'd messed up and quickly grabbed the bowl, trying to feed me.

"I'm sorry, Laura," she said, her voice laced with fake sweetness. "I didn’t realize this was for you. I got a little greedy and had some of the soup. Please don’t take it out on Ryan."

Before I could even reach out to stop her, the bowl trembled and tipped over, spilling hot porridge all over the bed.

"Laura!" Ryan exploded. "There's a limit to how jealous and unreasonable you can be! Stacey already apologized. What else do you want from her?"

After yelling at me, he quickly grabbed my hand, which had been burned by the scalding porridge, and began blowing on it, one breath at a time.

Stacey's eyes welled up with fake tears. "Ryan, please don't blame Laura. She didn't mean to knock the bowl over."

Her words only made things worse. Ryan snapped at her, turning his anger onto me.

In one swift motion, he grabbed the pot of porridge and slammed it onto the floor, making it crash.

"If I’d known," he shouted, "I’d rather feed this to a dog than hand it over to you!"