I forced a smile. "Congratulations, you two. I wish you all the best."

My voice sounded surprisingly steady.

Jax looked relieved. Chloe' s smile tightened, just a fraction.

Then Mark and Lee, Jax' s bandmates, swaggered over, beers in hand.

"Hey, Savvy! Remember all those cookies you used to bake for us?" Mark jeered.

"And those posters? 'The Night Howlers conquer Austin!'" Lee added, mimicking a dramatic voice.

They laughed, loud and obnoxious.

"She was our number one fan girl, weren't you, Savvy?"

"Such an adorable crush," Mark said, winking at Chloe. "Good thing our Jax is all grown up now."

The industry types nearby chuckled.

I felt my face burn. Utterly, completely humiliated.

Jax just stood there, a faint, uncomfortable smirk on his face. He didn't say a word to stop them.

He didn't care.

It hit me then. All those years, his tolerance of my presence, my constant orbiting around him and the band, it was because of Ben.

Ben was his best friend, his bandmate. He put up with the little sister.

Now, he had Chloe. He didn't need to put up with me anymore.

He wanted me gone. This whole charade was to make sure of it.

I mumbled an excuse and turned away, needing to escape.

The sadness was a heavy weight in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I found a quiet corner by a large window overlooking the city.

"Rough night?"

Chloe Davenport was beside me, holding two glasses of champagne. She offered one to me.

I shook my head. "No, thank you."

"Look," she said, her voice softer now, almost conspiratorial. "Jax can be a bit of an idiot. Those guys are jerks. Don't let them get to you."

I just looked at her.

"I meant what I said, Chloe. I'm happy for you both. I'm moving on with my life."

She took a sip of her champagne, her eyes appraising me.

"Are you? You know, Jax talks in his sleep sometimes. He used to mumble your name. A lot."

My breath hitched. What was she playing at?

"He felt guilty, I think. Leading you on with that 'wait till you're twenty-two' crap."

She shrugged. "Or maybe he actually liked the attention from the sweet little art girl."

Her smile was back, sharp and knowing.

Before I could respond, there was a sudden, loud creaking sound from above.

We both looked up.

A massive art installation, a heavy metal sculpture, was suspended from the ceiling.

It was swaying.

Dangerously.

People started to scream.

Instinctively, Jax, who had appeared from nowhere, grabbed Chloe, pulling her roughly out of the sculpture's direct path.

He didn't even glance my way.

The sculpture crashed down with a deafening roar of tortured metal and shattering plaster.

I wasn't directly under it, but a large, jagged piece broke off, spinning through the air.

Pain exploded in my leg, a searing, blinding agony.

Another blow near my collarbone.

Then, darkness.

I woke up in a hospital room.

The smell of antiseptic and fear.

Ben was there, his face pale, eyes red-rimmed.

"Savvy? Oh, God, Savvy, I'm so sorry." He looked like he was about to cry.

"What happened?" My voice was a croak.

"The sculpture… it fell. You got hit. Your leg is broken, pretty badly. And you have a deep cut here." He gently touched his own collarbone.

He looked furious. "Jax… he just stood there with Chloe. Didn't even look back after he pulled her clear."

I processed that. Jax saved Chloe. Of course, he did. She was his fiancée, his future.

I was just… Savvy.

It didn't even hurt anymore, that realization. It was just a fact.

"It's okay, Ben," I whispered. "He chose. It's fine."

It solidified everything. My decision to leave.

Ben looked at me, his eyes full of a pain that mirrored my own, but also a simmering anger.

"It's not fine, Sav. None of this is fine."

But I knew, with a chilling certainty, that it was over. Whatever I thought I had with Jax, whatever future I had dreamed of, was gone.

And I was strangely calm.

I was going to Florence. I would heal. I would build a new life.

Secretly, I started making the real plans, the ones that involved plane tickets and a one-way journey.

Jax showed up at the hospital the next day.

I was propped up in bed, my leg in a heavy cast, a throbbing ache radiating from my collarbone.

"Hey," he said, lingering awkwardly by the door.

He looked tired, a little guilty maybe.

I kept my face neutral. "What do you want, Jax?"

"Ben told me what happened. That you were hurt. Chloe felt terrible."

Chloe. Of course.

"I'm fine," I said, my voice flat. I didn't want his pity, or Chloe's.

I tried to shift, to hide the Florence travel brochures I'd been looking at on my bedside table.

He noticed the movement. His eyes narrowed.

"What are you hiding?" he asked, a hint of suspicion in his tone. "More fan art?"

He thought I was still that obsessed kid. Maybe he always would.

"It's nothing," I said.

"Chloe asked me to check on you," he said, as if that explained his presence. "She's worried about, you know, lawsuits. The loft owner is a friend of her dad's."

So, this wasn't about me. It was damage control.

My heart, already bruised, felt another dull throb.

"Tell Chloe not to worry. I'm not suing anyone."

I kept my voice cold, distant. I wanted him gone.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Look, Savvy, about the party..."

"It's forgotten," I cut him off.

He seemed surprised by my coldness.

Then, a flicker of something else. "You need anything? Water? Help with the... pillows?"

It was a reluctant offer, almost forced.

"I'm fine," I repeated.

But the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through my leg. I winced.

He stepped forward. "Here, let me."

"I don't need your help, Jax."

He ignored me, reaching for the pillows behind my head. His fingers brushed my hair.

For a second, it was like old times, a phantom echo of the boy who' d given me a guitar pick.

Then Chloe walked in.

"Jax, darling? Oh, Savvy, you're awake."

She glided to his side, possessively tucking her arm through his.

Jax immediately straightened up, moving away from me as if I were contagious.

"Chloe was just worried," he said, his voice instantly warmer, softer, for her.

The sudden shift in his attention, his complete abandonment of me mid-gesture, made me lose my balance as I tried to readjust myself.

My injured leg twisted.

A sharp cry escaped my lips. Pain, white-hot, shot up my thigh.

Chloe tutted. "Oh, dear. Clumsy. Jax, maybe you should help her properly."

Her concern was paper-thin.

Jax looked torn for a split second, his eyes darting between me and Chloe.

Then he shook his head. "Nah, I can't. We're, you know, engaged. Wouldn't look right, me fussing over another girl. Especially with the wedding so soon."

He actually said that. Publicly.

My jaw tightened. The humiliation was a fresh wave.

Chloe smiled sweetly at me. "He's just being proper, sweetie. Old-fashioned. He wouldn't want to give anyone the wrong idea, especially after your... well, your little crush."

Her eyes gleamed with a triumph that made me sick.

I looked straight at her, then at Jax.

"Don't worry about wrong ideas, Chloe. I'm perfectly aware of your... relationship. And frankly, I don't care anymore."

Just then, a nurse bustled in, her bright scrubs a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere. "Alright, Miss Miller, doctor's orders. A little change of scenery. The sunroom is lovely this time of day. It'll do you good."

The idea of escaping the claustrophobic room, of getting away from them, was a lifeline. "Yes, please."

Chloe seized the opportunity, her voice dripping with false concern. "Oh, what a wonderful idea! We'll come with you, won't we, Jax? Make sure she's settled in comfortably."

I didn't have the energy to protest as the nurse helped me into a wheelchair. Jax and Chloe followed us out of the room and down the hall, their presence a heavy weight behind me.

The path to the sunroom led through the main lobby, a large, airy space with a ridiculously ornate decorative fountain gurgling in the center. The floor around it was slick with moisture.

As we passed it, Chloe stopped, blocking my path. She opened her mouth, maybe to deliver another patronizing line, maybe even to let slip more of their "plan."

She took a step back, gesturing animatedly, and her heel caught on the uneven edge of a wet floor tile.

She yelped, arms flailing, and then she was falling.

Right into the decorative fountain.

Splash.

Jax whirled around. "Chloe!"

He hauled her out, dripping and sputtering.

Then he turned on me, his face a mask of fury. I was still in the wheelchair, helpless.

"What did you do?" he snarled, advancing.

"Me? I didn't do anything!"

"You tripped her! You're jealous, you psycho!"

He was actually accusing me. After everything.

And then, he did something I never thought Jax, my Jax, the boy who saved me from falling equipment, would ever do.

He shoved me. Hard.

Not my body, but the wheelchair itself. He grabbed the handles and violently pushed.

The chair shot backwards, unbalanced. My good leg slipped on the wet tiles from Chloe's splash as I tried to regain control.

The wheelchair tipped, and I was falling too, into the cold, shallow water of the fountain.

The shock stole my breath. My casted leg hit the bottom with a jarring thud.

Pain, again. Overwhelming.

Jax stood over me, glaring, his chest heaving. Chloe was clinging to him, looking shocked but also strangely satisfied.

"You ever, EVER, touch her or try anything with her again," Jax growled, his voice dangerously low, "and I'll make you regret the day you were born, Savvy Miller. Stay away from us."

I couldn't swim with the heavy cast. I couldn't even get my footing in the tipped wheelchair.

I was floundering, water filling my mouth, my wound near my collarbone stinging fiercely.

I saw red bloom in the water around my white cast.

My blood.

He was going to let me drown.