My hand for her dream.

"Yes, I will marry you."

My voice came out steady, so calm that it almost sounded like it belonged to someone else, but my fingers were shaking so badly I nearly dropped my phone, and I had to press it harder against my ear just to keep it in place.

There was a pause on the other end, a quiet breath, then Mitchell spoke, his tone low and certain.

"Alright, Evelyn, I will handle everything."

I swallowed, my throat dry, my injured hand throbbing inside the brace as I shifted slightly, trying to steady myself without letting him hear it in my voice.

"Thank you."

"Rest," he added, softer now, "we will talk when you are ready."

The call ended.

Silence settled around me immediately, heavy and suffocating, and I slowly lowered the phone, my fingers still trembling as I stared at the dark screen.

My hand pulsed with pain inside the brace, sharp and deep, and I pressed it against my stomach, holding it there like I could somehow keep it together if I just applied enough pressure.

A few hours ago, I still believed everything could be fixed.

My fiancé and childhood friend Adrian had ruined my hand so his first love Selene could take the mentorship that was supposed to be mine, and I had found out while I was walking to him with the news that my hand could still be saved.

I let out a slow breath, but it came out uneven, almost breaking halfway, and I squeezed my eyes shut as the memory forced its way back in, clear and cruel.

Earlier that day, I had stood outside Adrian’s office, smiling to myself, my heart light for the first time in weeks because I finally had good news.

The specialist had said my hand could still be saved, the damage was not permanent, and with the right procedure, I could recover enough to operate again.

I had held that report so tightly, my fingers brushing over the words again and again as if I needed to feel it was real, and all I could think about was telling him.

Adrian.

My fiancé.

My childhood friend.

The boy I grew up beside in a house my mother worked in, the boy who used to sneak me snacks from the kitchen and whisper that one day I would be better than all of them, the boy who held my hand the night I got accepted into medical school and told me he always knew I would make it.

I had believed him.

The door to his office had been slightly open when I got there, and I was just about to knock when I heard my name.

I stopped.

Something about the way he said it made my steps freeze, my fingers tightening around the report as my smile slowly faded.

"You really went that far?" his friend asked, his voice low, uneasy, like he could not believe what he was hearing.

Adrian let out a quiet breath, almost annoyed.

"I had no choice."

My stomach dropped, a strange, cold feeling spreading through me as I stayed where I was, unable to move, unable to look away from that small gap in the door.

His friend spoke again, sharper this time.

"You arranged the accident, Adrian, you tampered with her instruments, you made sure her hand would be ruined, and you are still saying you had no choice?"

No, it's not possible. That was the first thought that came to me. Adrian would never do that to me. Just when I thought he would deny it, Adrian spoke again, his tone calm, steady, carrying that quiet certainty he always had when he thought he was right.

"Selene wanted that mentorship, and if Evelyn got it, Selene would never have a chance."

Selene.

The rich girl.

The one who never had to struggle for anything, the one who walked into rooms already chosen, already favored, already protected.

And still, it was not enough.

His friend let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

"She already has everything, Adrian, her family owns half the hospital board, and you are telling me that still was not enough for you, you had to take Evelyn’s career too?"

Adrian sounded mildly irritated now.

"You are making it sound worse than it is."

"Worse?" his friend snapped, "you crippled her hands."

Adrian exhaled slowly.

"I made a decision," he said, like he was explaining something simple. "Evelyn would have taken that position, Selene would have lost it, and I was not going to let that happen."

My grip loosened slightly, the edges of the report slipping against my fingers as the ringing in my ears grew louder.

His friend’s voice dropped, quieter now, heavier.

"And Evelyn, what about her?"

Another pause.

Then Adrian spoke again, softer, but not kinder.

"I am already compensating her."

My breath caught.

"What does that even mean?" his friend asked.

"I am marrying her," Adrian replied, like it should be obvious, like it was more than enough. "Do you have any idea what that gives her, my name, my family, security, she does not lose anything that matters."

My fingers went numb.

The report slipped from my hand completely, falling to the floor without a sound I could hear, because the only thing I could hear was my own heartbeat, loud and uneven, pounding in my ears.

His friend sounded disgusted now.

"She wanted to be a surgeon, Adrian, that is what matters to her."

Adrian let out a short breath, almost dismissive.

"She can still live well without it."

"And Selene?" his friend pressed. "You are risking everything for her, for what, for a mentorship she does not even need?"

Adrian was quiet for a moment.

Then he spoke again, more carefully this time.

"Selene cannot afford to lose anything right now, she is building her reputation, and she needs that position without distractions."

His friend scoffed.

"Distractions?"

"If I were with Selene openly," Adrian continued, his voice lowering slightly, "it would complicate things, people would talk, it would affect how she is seen, and I am not going to let her career suffer because of me."

My stomach twisted violently.

"So Evelyn is fine to suffer instead?" his friend asked.

Another pause.

Then Adrian gave a quiet, almost amused exhale.

"Evelyn is different."

Different.

The word settled heavily.

"She is… easier," he added, like it was nothing. "She trusts me, she stays where I put her, and even now, she will not question any of this."

Something inside me cracked.

.

I did not remember picking up the report, I did not remember walking away, and all I knew was that when I finally stopped, I was no longer smiling, and whatever I had been holding onto before was gone.

Back to now, I opened my eyes slowly and looked at my reflection in the glass across the room.

I looked pale.

Hollow.

Like someone had taken everything from me and left only the outline behind.

No parents to fall back on.

No safety.

No future I had built with my own hands.

Just the truth.

My hand throbbed again inside the brace, a dull, constant pain that spread up my arm, and I flexed my fingers slightly, but the movement was weak, unsteady, not the hands of a surgeon.

Not anymore.

A soft sound broke through the silence.

My phone lit up again.

Adrian.

His name filled the screen like nothing had changed, like he had not just torn my life apart and stood there calling it necessary.

My fingers hovered for a second, trembling slightly, then I let the phone ring.

And ring.

And ring.

Until the sound stopped.

I did not move.

I did not pick it up.

I did not call him back.

Slowly, I reached up with my good hand and touched the ring on my finger, the one he had given me with a promise I now knew meant nothing.

For a moment, I just stared at it, my vision blurring slightly , but the tears did not fall this time.

I slid it off.

The metal felt cold against my skin as it left my finger, and I held it for a second, my hand shaking slightly before I curled my fingers around it.

Then I turned.

Walked to the trash bin without hesitation.

And dropped it in.