My Proposal Was a Joke, I Walked Away

Chapter 3

I got drenched by the rain on my way back. With no appetite to eat anything, I curled up on the couch and slipped into a restless, feverish sleep. I didn't know how long I had been out before the harsh ringing of my phone dragged me awake.

I gritted my teeth against the splitting headache and answered the call, only to be hit with a wave of blame the moment I picked up.

"Lillian, where are you? Weren't we supposed to go to the club together? It's your birthday. You didn't come, and Celine feels awful."

Along with Roman's voice, I could hear Celine singing on the other end. Her voice was soft and beautiful, mixed with the loud laughter of their friends in the background.

I knew I had never belonged in their little circle. I had tried to fit in once.

"Lillian, you're terrible at singing. If you're naturally tone-deaf, just drop the mic. Lili, sit down first. Rome and I will take this song."

That night, I sat there and listened to their endless love song duets for over two hours. After that, I never went to such clubs again.

"I don't feel well. You guys have fun."

The fever burning through me left me no choice but to drag my sore body into the kitchen and mix a packet of fever medicine.

Celine's voice came through the phone again. "Lili, I remember you always had a strong immune system. You never get sick. Are you still upset with me? I'm sorry. I'm apologizing to you again. I hope you'll forgive me."

"I'm not upset. I really am sick."

A few seconds of silence followed.

I thought that once Roman found out I was sick, he would at least ask how I was doing. Instead, all I heard was his sneer from the other end.

"Lillian, quit pretending. I know you're sensitive, but I didn't think you'd actually cling to something this small and refuse to let go. I'm not coming home tonight. I'll leave you alone to think things through."

Then he hung up before I could say another word.

I laughed at myself bitterly. Of course. After everything had fallen apart like this, what exactly was I still hoping for?

I endured the headache for over an hour, but it didn't get any better. The thermometer flashed 103.3°F. I was afraid I would faint from the fever while I was alone at home, so after hesitating for a moment, I finally forced myself to call Roman.

"The number you dialed is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later..."

After countless attempts, the automated message finally said the phone had been switched off.

I tried Celine. No answer either.

I once thought they were most important in my life. Yet when I needed them, I couldn't get through to either of them.

I had no idea how high my fever climbed afterward. All I knew was my head was pounding like it was seconds away from cracking open. I called emergency services, and the operator's calm, reassuring voice gave me the first bit of comfort I had felt all night.

"Ma'am, an ambulance is on the way. Please don't hang up. We'll stay connected with you."

A little over 10 minutes later, I forced my weak body to the door and managed to unlock it. The second the last bit of strength left me, I collapsed.

When I woke up again, I was already lying in a hospital bed. A nurse walked over, hooked up my IV, then sighed, shook her head, and left.

"Is Bed 8's family member here?"

"She's been here before. Her emergency contact showed up once and left in a hurry for some meeting."

I closed my eyes. My emergency contact was Roman.

When I first moved to this city, I caught a terrible cold after getting soaked in the rain, and I ended up with a high fever just like last night. Getting a taxi during a storm was nearly impossible, and my phone died after being drenched. Roman carried me all the way to the hospital.

His shoes and pants were covered in mud and rainwater, but he didn't care about himself at all. He begged the doctors to save me, his face filled with panic and helplessness. Back then, he loved me that much. But things changed.

After I was discharged, I found out that the emergency doctor from the ambulance had paid my hospital deposit. The people I trusted most had ignored my calls, while a complete stranger had lent a hand.

I found Dr. White, reimbursed him for the medical expenses, and brought him a thank-you card along with a bouquet of flowers. But the moment I handed him the flowers, an angry voice came from the office doorway.

"What are you doing?"