I had left home so hurriedly today that I'd forgotten my inhaler. Furious that Caleb and his buddies were laughing at me and holding me hostage, I called Alexander for help.

Alexander was a doctor working in the ER. He was normally too tied up to answer his phone, but he had promised me that he would never reject my calls.

Out of consideration for his busy schedule, I never called him. I would usually text him to give him a heads-up, and I'd only call if he was free to answer. This time, I called him without texting him first.

The beeping on the other line went on for so long that the call ended on its own. Undeterred, I called him again and again.

I had lost count of the calls I'd made when Felix suddenly cried, "Caleb! Someone crashed into Sasha's car from behind. She's now in the hospital. Call her and ask if she's okay!"

I froze. Sasha got into a car accident?

However, Caleb dismissed Felix's concern with a nonchalant flick of his hand. He pulled up his Instagram and showed it to Felix. "Alexander's taken care of it. She's fine save for a few scratches here and there."

I couldn't help glancing at the picture on Caleb's phone.

Sasha had taken a picture of Alexander's masked side profile while he applied antiseptic to her wounds. He looked at ease, his gaze gentle as if nothing was awry.

She even captioned the post with, "I'm fine, thanks for your concern, everyone. I'm blessed to have you take care of me whenever I'm hurt."

No wonder none of my calls were getting through; Alexander was taking care of Sasha. I should have known.

Felix noticed I was still calling Alexander and mocked, "He's busy at the moment. Read the room and give them some space, why don't you?"

At that moment, my lungs caved in to the suffocating smoke. I opened my mouth and panted hard, helpless as I tried and failed to draw in more air. I felt like a fish out of water.

I lost grip of my phone just as the call went through. As if seizing my chance at salvation, I knelt on the ground and pressed a hand to my chest. A layer of cold sweat had broken out over my skin as I tried to get my words out.

But that was when Sasha's high-pitched voice came from the other line. "That hurts, Alex! Can't you be more gentle with me?"

I heard Alexander chide indulgently, "So you do feel pain like everyone else. Better drive carefully the next time if you don't want to get into another accident."

He had only just said this when I managed, with superhuman effort, to speak. "A-Alexander… Save me… I'm dying… I can't hold on… any longer."

Alexander fell silent on the other line. I heard the sound of a surgeon's tool clanging against the metal dish, followed by his impatient reprimand, "Isabelle, you're an adult, for heaven's sake. Could you be any more childish? Death isn't something to joke about!

"Sasha's injured, and I'm tending to her wounds right now. I'm a doctor by profession, and this is part of my job. Are you seriously getting jealous over this?

"Let me make this clear one last time—nothing is going on between me and Sasha. You can either take my word for it or continue doubting me. It's up to you!"

Alexander had wasted precious time reprimanding me and missed the golden hour. I was suffocating so badly by the time he hung up the call that I could not utter a single word. I toppled to the ground, convulsing as I gasped for air.

Felix jumped at the sight of me struggling to breathe. He looked to Caleb and the other man on the couch, seeking help. "Caleb, she's… She'll be fine, right?"

Before Caleb could answer, Liam Carter spoke up beside him, sounding nonchalant. "Of course. She's probably jealous that Alex and Sasha are getting close.

"This is probably just an act to get his attention. Leave her alone; I'd like to see what other acts she has up her sleeve."

Liam had a thing for Sasha, and this was his way of helping her get back at me.

In the end, I died in the lounge.

The three men didn't notice something was amiss until I had laid stiffly and lifelessly on the ground for ten whole minutes. They blanched when they realized I truly wasn't breathing.

They were at a complete loss. In their moment of shock and panic, they decided to drive out of the city and dump my body in the ocean. I trailed after them, a soul without a body, and choked a bitter laugh at what they had done.

It seemed I wasn't even worthy of a proper burial.

After disposing of my body, the guilty trio settled on a single version of the events that had transpired that evening so that there would be no discrepancies. I ignored their exchange and went off in search of Alexander.

I found Alexander in the hospital. He had gotten takeout for Sasha, who whined, "How am I supposed to eat the chowder with an injured hand? Feed me, Alex."

Alexander seemed to agree that he had lacked forethought and opened the takeout container. He then scooped up some of the chowder and fed Sasha spoonful by spoonful.

My earlier call for help didn't seem to weigh on him at all.

I glanced at Sasha's bandaged left arm. From the looks of it, she had gotten out of the car accident with only a few scratches and abrasions. Such minor wounds, yet I had lost my life because of them.

I could have laughed at myself at that moment.

Alexander had always insisted that nothing was going on between him and Sasha. But when I called him to beg for help, he chose to dismiss it as an act of jealousy toward Sasha, whom he saw as a sister.

Sasha swallowed a mouthful of chowder and asked worriedly, "Alex, aren't you going to check on Isabelle? She called you earlier and mentioned she was dying or something."

Alexander paused, then said indifferently, "Don't worry about her. She was probably jealous after seeing the picture you posted. I've given her a week to cool her head. She should know how I feel about her by now."

He sounded somewhat annoyed. "Screw it, I'm not going home tonight. She'll likely pick another fight with me if I do. I'm so tired of this."

I stood next to him, staring at his expression. This was the man who had promised to love me forever, the man whom I had risked my life to save.

Seven years ago, I rushed into the fire and gave my all to rescue Alexander. The smoke had burned my throat, and while I survived the incident, I had sustained burns on nearly my entire back. I had also developed asthma symptoms.

Alexander had gotten out of the fire unscathed, courtesy of the wet clothes I'd bundled him in.

After that, he worked hard to get into medical school and promised to take care of me forever. But it seemed he had forgotten that promise, even though only seven years had passed since he made it.