Chapter 4
The moment I said it, he looked down at his communicator, his mouth curved into a smile.
His head snapped up. “What?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just waved me off.. “Deployment bonus came through. Take the card, buy whatever. Call it compensation.”
“Vivian wants to see your dress. We’re going to the bridal shop—you’re going to try it on for her.”
He grabbed my wrist—tight enough to hurt. “Just cooperate with her this time. Be nice. Got it?”
“Screw this up again and I’ll actually let someone take you.”
He didn’t wait for a response. Just pulled me out the door.
I followed.
I’d left my mother’s locket at the shop. I was going to wear it at the wedding.
Now it didn’t matter.
Vivian was already there, all wide eyes and nervous hands.
I searched her face for something—smugness, guilt, anything. Nothing.
She moved behind Lucas. Her voice came out soft, shaky. “Evelyn… why are you looking at me like that? I’m scared.”
“Evelyn!” Lucas’s grip tightened on my wrist—the injured one.
Pain shot through me, white and sharp. I forced the words out. “I’m not.”
Vivian smiled then. “Come on, Evelyn. Let’s see the dress.”
The attendant brought out the gown—custom, designed just for me by Ford Vance.
Vivian’s eyes went wide. She pressed closer to Lucas, voice dropping to a whisper. “Lucas, can I try it? Just once?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m… I’m not pure anymore. I might never get married now. Never wear my own dress. Please—just let me have this?”
Something shifted in Lucas’s face—soft, pained. “Yeah. Okay.”
Then he looked at me. The message was clear.
I closed my eyes and nodded.
“Thank you, Lucas!” Vivian’s voice brightened. But her eyes had already moved—to the locket lying next to the dress.
“Oh… this is so pretty. Can I have it? As a keepsake?”
That snapped me out of it. I lunged forward. “No! You can’t—”
“Give it to her.” Lucas’s hand shot out, blocking me.
The air left my lungs. I held the locket tighter. “Lucas, this was my mother’s. It’s all I have left of her—”
“So?” He pried my fingers open, one by one. “You owe her, Evelyn. Consider this your payment.”
“No! Do whatever you want to me—anything—just not this!”
I reached for it, desperate.
My fingers grazed the chain. Vivian screamed, stumbled backward.
“You pushed me! Evelyn Brooks, you pushed me!”
“Vivian!” Lucas shoved me hard. I went sprawling as he rushed to catch her.
My foot hit nothing. I was falling, tumbling down the stairs.
Something cracked. Pain everywhere, sharp and blinding.
Copper flooded my mouth. I coughed, choked—blood spattered the floor, dark and thick.
When I woke up, I was in in the military hospital.
My colleague’s face said everything before she opened her mouth.
“Evelyn, your spine—the lumbar region—it’s badly damaged. We saved your legs, but…” She paused. “You might not walk again.”
I looked down at my legs. Couldn’t feel them. Tears came.
Even if my hand healed, what did it matter? I’d never stand in an OR again.
My colleague’s eyes filled.
“He didn’t even come. Didn’t ask. You’re here with a broken spine and he…” She shook her head. “His sister twisted her ankle. He had half the medical staff in there within minutes.”
“We’re all so sorry, Dr. Brooks. This shouldn’t have happened to you.”
A week ago, that would’ve broken me.
Now I felt nothing.
I wiped my face. “Start my discharge paperwork.”
My flight left in three hours.
If I left now, I could still make it.
This was it. The end of Lucas and me.
I picked up my phone. Sent Lucas everything—every record, every piece of proof that Vivian had framed me.
Then I changed out of the hospital gown, pulled on regular clothes. Wheeled myself toward the door.
The door slammed open.
Lucas. Still in full combat gear, face dark with rage. He stormed in and slammed his hand down on my wheelchair—stopping me cold.
My colleague stepped forward. “General, you’re here. Dr. Brooks has suffered serious—”
“I know.”
He cut her off. His voice was ice.
Then his hand came up. He slapped me, hard.