“Here to present the trophy, Mr. Parker? I’m
afraid someone who died once can’t accept a
living man’s congratulations.”
He ignored the barb, relief flooding his eyes.
Tears spilled down his cheeks. “You’re alive. I
thought I’d lost you…”
He held out my jade bracelet. The one he’d
given to Brittany.
<
“Livvy Moon, I’m sorry. I’ve been living in hell
for two years. I hate myself. I hurt you so
much. Can you…”
His sleeve slipped, revealing a network of
scars. Self–inflicted.
A pang of guilt. I reached for the bracelet.
“No,” I said coldly. “The Olivia you knew is
dead. She died in that plane crash. One
hundred pranks. The baby. My leg. Do you
know how many surgeries it took for me to
walk again? Why don’t you die, Ethan
Parker?”
I lifted my skirt, showing the cold metal of my prosthetic, the twisted scars on my thigh.
<
“You did this to me!”
He froze, eyes wide with horror and pain. I’d
craved that look. That flicker of genuine care
during those endless pranks.
He grabbed my hand, dropping to his knees.
A pathetic, abandoned dog.
“I deserve to die. But fate brought us back
together. Please, give me another chance,
Olivia, Livvy Moon…”
He reached for my leg. I recoiled. “Get away
from me! You’re insane!”
“Who are you? Get lost!” A tall man kicked
Ethan aside.
<
Weak and disoriented, Ethan collapsed. I
snatched the bracelet.
“Are you okay?” Aris, my lead game designer,
shielded me. I shook my head.
Ethan crawled towards me, his face a mask
of despair.
“Who is he? Do you love him?”
“Olivia, you can’t do this to me! I can’t live
without you…
“What do I have to do to make you forgive
me?”
Aris kicked him again. “You’re threatening
our CEO I’m calling the police”
<
our CEO. I’m calling the police.”
Ethan coughed, blood staining his lips. I
stared down at him, cold and indifferent.
“It doesn’t matter who he is. Forgive you?
Only if you’re dead.”
I let Aris lead me away, catching a glimpse of
Ethan’s heartbroken expression.
The same look I’d worn for three years.
The next day, preparing for the auction, I got
a call from a Parisian hospital.
Ethan had slashed his leg. Found laughing in
a pool of blood, muttering, “Now Olivia will
forgive me.”
They said he’d only asked for me. Refused
treatment until I came. He was bleeding out.
I couldn’t forgive him. Not for the betrayal,
the humiliation.
“I don’t know this Mr. Parker,” I told them. “If
he refuses treatment, call a mortician.”
Ethan’s voice, frantic, filled the line. “Livvy
Moon, my leg…I’m dying…Please, just see
me…one last time…You used to care…”
I hung up, my stomach churning. The old
Olivia would’ve dropped everything to run to
him. Only to find an empty room, or worse,
Brittany’s mocking laughter.
