I called Jude Lyons four times from the scene of the accident.

He rejected every one. Then a text came through.

【In a meeting. Whatever it is, we'll talk tonight.】

A second later, his secretary's new post popped up on social media, captioned:

“Thanks to the boss, I got my first crab of the season. So good!”

What I noticed was the little pink fan on the table. Plugged into his charger.

I lay on the stretcher, and suddenly everything hurt.

Ten years together, and Jude had always been obsessive about order.

He hated broken rules. He resisted any change imposed by someone else, rejected anything or anyone that disrupted his rhythm.

The charger, for instance, fell squarely inside his rules.

Once, when my phone wouldn't charge, I tried his. He found out, threw the charger away, and didn't speak to me for a week.

It only ended when I caved and wrote him a formal written apology.

But now someone else had broken his rules and walked into his life without a scratch.

Five minutes later, I saved the photo and sent it to him.

【We're done. You have twenty-four hours to move out.】

……

The nurse glanced at me and asked quietly,

“When is your family getting here?”

“That wound needs stitches in the ER, and someone has to sign for you.”

I thought for a moment, then texted my best friend.

Twenty minutes later, Jude showed up. Ethel Henson trailed behind him.

My wound had just been taken care of and Frieda Delgado was wheeling me to the payment window when she spotted him. Her face twisted with open contempt.

“Oh wow, Mr. Lyons. Visiting your ex and you brought your little secretary along?”

Jude's brow furrowed. He didn't answer her. Instead he walked straight to me, crouched down, something almost soothing in his voice.

“Marina, what did the doctor say? What about the driver who hit you?”

“It's nothing. Six stitches.”

“Driver took off. I already filed a report.”

I pulled away from his hand and answered flatly.

He drew his hand back, awkward, a flicker of guilt crossing his face.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore your calls.”

I looked at him and cut him off, calm.

“I know. You don't need to apologize.”

“We don't have anything to do with each other anymore.”

His expression shifted. His voice dropped.

“Marina, we've been together ten years. You're really breaking up with me over a charger?”

I let out a quiet laugh, my gaze drifting past him to Ethel.

“What, should I wait until she's in your bed?”

“Miss Sullivan, I know you have issues with me, but you can't just humiliate me like this.”

Ethel's voice cracked, her eyes rimming red.

“Mr. Lyons and I have a strictly professional relationship.”

“I get hives when I overheat, so I just borrowed his charger for a minute. I won't do it again.”

I was about to ask if there wasn't a single portable charger available nearby when Jude shot to his feet.

He stepped in front of Ethel, shielding her.

“Marina, are you done?”

“Is this really necessary, going after her like this?”

I tilted my head up to look at him, my nose stinging.

“Who's the one making a scene here?”

“You.”

Not a second of hesitation. His voice was cold.

“Apologize to Ethel.”

My eyes dropped to the watch on my wrist. I swallowed the ache in my throat.

“That's never going to happen.”

“You have less than twenty-three hours left. Pack your things and get out.”

“And I'll be letting both families know in the group chat that we split on good terms.”

Then I slid the engagement ring off my finger and held it out to him.

“You know how Mrs. Lawrence feels about cheating.”

Panic flashed through his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but behind him, Ethel let out a sharp gasp.

“Ah! My hand!”

Jude turned around and saw the angry red welts spreading across Ethel's skin. He caught her by the waist, then looked at me.

“Marina, I'm not agreeing to a breakup, and I'm not moving out.”

“Wait for me.”

He scooped Ethel up and carried her off to find a doctor.

His broad back disappeared down the hallway, footsteps quick and urgent.

I clutched the ring, then gestured for Frieda to wheel me over to the trash can.

Two labels. Recyclable. Non-recyclable.

I tossed it into the second one without a moment's hesitation.

“You don't even have a fever, though……”

Frieda pressed the back of her hand to my forehead, staring at me like I'd grown a second head.

“Marina, did that car knock the sense into you or out of you?”

“Since you were eighteen, it's been 'Jude Lyons or no one.' What flipped the switch?”

I leaned back in the wheelchair and smiled.

“I just realized it doesn't mean anything anymore.”

Last night, when I got home, I said to Jude as he came out of the shower:

“Tomorrow's the weekend. Let's go look at wedding dresses and suits, and we can pick out the reception outfits while we're at it.”

He glanced at his phone.

“Tomorrow doesn't work. I need to meet an old classmate to talk about a collaboration.”

“As for the suit, there'll be photos at the wedding, so just pick whatever you like. I'm fine with anything.”

I looked at his face, wanting to say that a wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and couldn't he be part of this one step.

But the words died on my tongue. He hated having his plans disrupted, so I changed tack.

“Can you at least drop me off on your way? My car's in the shop.”

He agreed without missing a beat.

“Sure.”

This morning I got ready and sat waiting for him in the living room.

His phone buzzed on the table, the caller ID reading Secretary Henson.

I picked it up and answered. Ethel's voice came through, thin and strained.

【Mr. Lyons……I know I'm not supposed to bother you during your time off, but Mr. Fletcher at Yucheng Corp insists on taking me out to brunch. I want to say no, but I'm afraid it'll affect the new project……】

I knew how Jude would handle it, so I replied for him.

【Secretary Henson, Mr. Lyons has plans today. It's not convenient.】

【If you can't handle it, then resign.】

Silence on the other end. Then the call disconnected.

Jude came out of the bedroom and walked over, leaning toward me.

“Who just called me?”

I was tying his tie, same as always.

“Secretary Henson.”

“What did she say?”

“Aaron Fletcher from Yucheng Corp invited her to brunch. I……”

Before I could finish, Jude straightened up.

The tie yanked taut against my finger, and my nail snapped.

His brow furrowed, his expression darkening.

“Fletcher?”

I didn't answer. I looked down at my broken nail, a sharp little sting at the tip of my finger.

Something shifted across Jude's face. He grabbed his phone, typed out a message at speed, and hit send.

Then he dropped a kiss at the corner of my mouth.

“Take a cab over. Get whatever you want, put it on my card.”

“You know what Fletcher's like. She can't deal with him alone.”

And then he was out the door, rushing, gone. He never once noticed the way I was wincing in pain.

I took out the first-aid kit. Disinfectant. Nail clippers to trim away the broken part. A bandage wrapped around the finger.

The mood for a wedding dress fitting was gone. I texted Frieda and asked her to go shopping instead.

I didn't feel like calling a cab, so I unlocked a bike share and pedaled slowly.

Bad luck comes in pairs. A car running a yellow light hit me.

Before I even knew what happened, the driver and the car were both gone.

The bike's kickstand sliced a bloody line down my shin, and I hit the ground shaking from the pain.

A girl got out of her car, called the police for me, and dialed 911.

While we waited, her phone kept ringing. The street was loud, so she put it on speaker, and I caught most of it.

She hadn't shown up on time. She'd held up work. Her boss and the client were both furious.

I felt terrible and told her to go ahead and leave.

She just smiled at me.

“It's fine. I can deal with it. Right now, you're what matters.”

She stayed the whole time, kept me calm, and only left after the paramedics arrived.

In the five minutes after I called Jude, everything came flooding back at once.

Three months ago, I'd been dying to have seasonal crab. Jude said he didn't like food with shells. He told me to go with Frieda, and he'd pick up the tab.

Yet today, he'd gone out for crab with Ethel.

He couldn't stand having his plans disrupted, so I'd gone to my wedding dress fitting alone.

But he'd promised to take me. Then one phone call from Ethel, and he left me standing there.

And the charger.

Once, I'd only tried using it, and he gave me the silent treatment for a week.

Now Ethel was plugging her little fan into it.

I kept thinking about that girl's eyes when she said, “Right now, you're what matters.”

When the police came, she volunteered her contact information and said she was willing to be a witness.

Before she left, she took off her jacket and draped it over my legs.

I lay in the ambulance with my wound throbbing while the paramedics took my blood pressure, stopped the bleeding, asked about my medical history. Every single one of them was gentle.

For ten years, I'd been waiting for Jude to break one of his rules for me.

Waiting for him to make an exception just once. To pick up my call in the middle of something. To rearrange his schedule for me. To put me, firmly and unmistakably, at the very top of his priorities.

I'd obeyed his rules, accommodated his moods, loved him carefully for ten years.

And right now, the only person willing to put me first, to ache over whether I was hurting, to choose me above everything else—was a stranger I'd never met before.

That was when I understood. He didn't love me.

And I shouldn't keep begging to be loved.

Lying in my hospital bed, I drafted a message in the family group chat with both our parents, deleted and retyped it over and over, and finally hit send.

I'd barely closed my eyes before the wound got infected and my fever spiked to nearly 104.

Frieda stayed by my side, running back and forth, and my temperature didn't come down until the middle of the night.

Looking at how worn she already was from a project at work, I hired a caretaker and told her to go home and rest.

Early the next morning, the sound of muffled crying woke me.

I opened my eyes, groggy, my whole body aching and weak.

Through blurred vision I could see Glenda Lawrence standing in the doorway of my room, wiping her tears. She was staring at Jude, her face a mix of disappointment and fury, the look of a mother who wanted to shake sense into her son.

“Jude, how can you be this clueless?”

“Marina's hurt this badly, and you still had the nerve to go take care of your secretary?!”

“Tell me the truth. Did you actually do something to betray her?”

“She's been with you for ten years. I know her temperament inside and out. If she weren't truly done with you, she would never have brought up breaking up at a time like this!”

Jude frowned.

“Mom, you don't know the situation. Yesterday, I couldn't just leave Ethel there……”

Glenda was trembling with anger, her voice rising sharply.

“But you could leave Marina? Jude, you're exactly like your father!”

The words landed. Glenda turned, caught my gaze, and immediately gathered a smile as she walked quickly into the room.

When she saw the bandages on my leg, her eyes went red again.