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Chapter 7
Evan Sutherland's livestream flickered to life as he leaned against the hospital bed. White gauze was wrapped around his forehead, glaring under the harsh fluorescent lights. On screen, he coughed weakly twice, his fingers trembling slightly as he opened the barrage of comments.
"Thank you for your concern," he rasped, his eyes red-rimmed. "I know it's too late for explanations, but I never expected Mia to do this to me."
The chat exploded instantly.
[My heart aches for you!]
[That bitch deserves to die!]
[We should've exposed her at the wedding!]
Evan lowered his lashes, a single tear slipping down at just the right moment. "Actually... when she came to me, she said she'd already broken up with Ryan. I was deceived too."
The hospital curtain fluttered in the breeze, casting mottled shadows across his face. I stared at the screen, catching the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
[I heard Mia's pregnant?] A comment suddenly scrolled past.
Evan's expression froze for a split second. He slowly lifted his head, offering a bitter smile. "The child is innocent. I'll take responsibility, even though..." His voice cracked. "Even after how she hurt me."
The chat flooded with praises of "what a good man." But I noticed how his fingers dug into the sheets, knuckles white.
Gift animations flashed across the screen. Amid the outpouring of sympathy, Evan's lips curled into a smirk—so quick it was almost imperceptible. But it sent a chill down my spine.
I knew he was lying. Just like at the wedding, he was weaving a bigger web. And this time, the entire internet had become his accomplice.
Seven days later, the piercing wail of an ambulance siren echoed through the hospital corridor.
Mia Jefferson had miscarried.
Gossip spread like wildfire at the nurses' station—rumors claimed she had fallen down the stairs. Leaning against the window in my hospital room, I watched the flashing blue lights of the ambulance below, my lips curling into an unconscious smirk.
That same afternoon, despite her frail condition, Mia went live on stream. On camera, her face was ghostly pale, her hair disheveled, making her look like a madwoman.
"It was Evan!" she shrieked at the screen, her nails digging deep into her palms. "He pushed me down the stairs! I saw him turn and walk away!"
The live chat exploded.
The screen switched to Evan, who was leisurely sipping coffee, his expression the picture of innocence. "Ms. Jefferson must be hallucinating from the trauma. I wasn't even there that day."
"You're lying!" Mia grabbed a vase from the coffee table and hurled it at him. Shards of glass scattered everywhere.
Evan clutched his bleeding arm, a flicker of malice flashing in his eyes before he quickly replaced it with a wounded expression. "Everyone saw that. This was deliberate assault."
The sound of police sirens grew louder.
I watched on my phone as Mia was dragged away by the officers, my fingers tapping lightly against the windowsill. Sunlight streamed through the glass, warming my skin.
Perfect. She finally got a taste of betrayal.
Two weeks later, Mia was released from jail. She had withered to a shadow of herself, standing at the door of my hospital room like a lost soul.
"Ryan..." Her voice trembled as she twisted the hem of her shirt. "I know I was wrong."
I took a step back, the sterile hospital air suddenly suffocating.
"We're even," I said.
Tears hit the floor, one after another. The irony was almost laughable—she hadn't been this fragile when she'd slapped me across the face.
"I'll make it up to you," she suddenly grabbed the sleeve of my hospital gown. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."
I shook her off and pressed the call button.
"Nurse, there's someone harassing a patient here."