Chapter 3

Reading the room, the clerk tactfully stopped probing.

That was when she noticed my slight limp. "What happened to your leg?" she asked with genuine concern.

When she learned I was booked for orthopedic surgery, she flared up with indignation. "Don't tell me your ex dumped you because of this?!"

I shook my head, then nodded slowly.

Was that the reason?

Maybe, maybe not. Even I couldn't say for sure.

It wasn't something I had really thought about.

After all, he had rekindled things with Bella long before he saw that doctor's note.

Even if my legs were perfectly fine, even if I had knelt and wept at his feet, he wouldn't have looked back.

The clerk immediately took my side. "Dumping you right when your health falls apart? What an absolute scumbag! Good riddance! You're going to find someone a million times better!"

That was the very first piece of encouragement anyone had given me since the breakup.

A sudden wave of warmth pricked at the corners of my eyes.

I smiled, gave her a nod, took the packaged loungewear, and headed straight for the supermarket downstairs.

I had only taken a few steps before a slender figure stepped into my path.

I looked up straight into Bella Vance's smug, gloating eyes.

Truth be told, Bella and I had known each other back in college.

We were in the same student club and frequently worked on campus events together.

Now, the way she looked at me was dripping with superiority.

She looked me up and down, as if searching for what on earth Tristan had ever seen in his ex compared to herself.

"You're not going to cling to Tristan and beg him to take you back, are you?" she asked suddenly.

Before I could answer, Tristan's voice cut through the air behind her. "Bella!"

Bella immediately turned with a sweet smile, looping her arm through his.

Tristan wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest.

His eyes brimmed with an overwhelming tenderness.

The boutique clerk, who happened to catch the whole display, rolled her eyes and called out loudly to me, "Chloe, honey! If you ever need anything delivered to your place, just give me a shout and I'll bring it over personally!"

I snapped out of it and smiled back. "Will do!"

The next morning, I checked into the hospital.

After finishing the admission paperwork and running pre-op tests, I asked the head nurse about hiring a private caregiver.

The helpful nurse promptly recommended three candidates.

I picked a woman around my own age; being close in age made communication so much easier.

The surgery took place on my second day in the hospital, lasting over four hours.

When I was wheeled out of the operating room, dull, throbbing aches flared repeatedly through my left thigh.

I pulled out my phone and Bella's latest post popped right into view: a scenic photo of the Maldives' turquoise waters, with her and Tristan strolling hand in hand along the shoreline.

Though I had put up a strong front for days, my heart twinged with a dull, heavy ache just like my leg.

A doctor in a white coat came by to tell me the procedure went smoothly. I would need to remain admitted for about a month, depending on how the wound healed. She gently advised me to chat with family members to keep my spirits up and ease mental stress.

Thinking about spending an entire month trapped in this room made my chest tight.

Besides, I didn't have any family.

I couldn't help thinking of Tristan.

Just three days ago, I had considered him my only family. But now, he was a stranger.

The day after surgery, my caregiver was wheeling me down the elevator when a young man on crutches stepped in.

Exiting the elevator, he made his way to the hospital's small courtyard garden as well.

Two male aides trailed closely behind him.

One of them reached out to support him, but he waved them off with mild irritation. "I don't need help!"

The aides had no choice but to keep a respectful distance.

Perhaps sensing my curious stare, he turned his head and looked at me.

"Wait... aren't you..." He scratched his head, squinting.

I stared back in surprise, assuming he had mistaken me for someone else. "I don't think we know each other," I said quietly.

"No, I'm sure of it," he said, realization dawning on his face. "You're little Chloe."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Little Chloe" was a childhood nickname.

Ever since my parents passed away, nobody had ever called me that.

I looked at him, completely baffled. "And you are...?"