Chapter 3

“Noah? He didn’t tell me he was coming over!”

He abandoned my surgery to celebrate Skylar’s championship win.

Even knowing what the outcome would be, I still desperately needed confirmation.

I looked at Skylar’s dance outfit, glittering with diamonds and incredibly luxurious, and couldn’t help but run my hands over my numb legs.

So, “tight on money” and “forced to delay treatment payments” were just your lies.

I sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “Director, I’d like to see the video of the competition from the day I fell.”

The director was surprised.

Before, I had always resisted this, even talking about it would make me break down.

I fast-forwarded to the part where I fell.

I leaped into the air;

Noah’s body swayed, and the hand that was supposed to catch me paused five centimeters away from my body.

I fell heavily to the ground.

Immediately after, there was his gasp of alarm and his frantic attempt to help me up.

Anyone watching would only think it was an accident.

But recalling Noah’s nonchalant tone on the phone, I felt his swaying body, his hesitating hand, were so deliberate.

For Skylar, he made me paralyzed, ruined my life.

But he was the one who ignited my dream.

During college, I repeatedly hit roadblocks in Latin dance competitions and had poor results. I decided to give up dancing after one last performance.

The music had just stopped when I heard applause.

“I’m truly grateful that such an excellent dancer exists in this world, allowing me to witness such beautiful dancing!”

His voice was filled with undisguised admiration.

That was the first time I met Noah.

Two strangers who knew nothing of each other: one venting about future uncertainties; the other encouraging me not to give up my dream.

I put on my dance shoes again, and after graduation, I reunited with Noah.

I was filled with joy, yet I was rejected by major dance competitions at the peak of my career.

After much asking around, I learned I’d been blacklisted by Noah’s ex-girlfriend, Skylar.

Unable to afford my mom’s surgery, and seeing the critical illness notice, I knelt before Skylar.

She made no demands on me, not even the typical “leave Noah” drama you see in TV shows.

She just gave me a faint glance, making me understand the vast chasm between us.

Skylar showed mercy, but my mom still missed the optimal treatment window and passed away.

I dared not blame anyone, only weep bitterly in the dead of night, clutching my mom’s clothes.

After I got together with Noah, I once brought this up to him.

He was silent for a long moment.

“Skylar can be a bit willful, don’t take it to heart.”

My eyes widened. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Could a simple “willful” cover up the crime of causing my mother’s death?

Noah irritably tugged at his tie.

“So what do you want me to do? Hold her accountable for something irreversible?”

“You can’t blame Skylar for this; it’s purely because you, as her daughter, were incompetent, which led to your mother’s untreatable death!”

I was incompetent?

I won every competition I entered!

But I didn't dare talk back.

Afraid my peaceful life would be ruined by Skylar again.