Chapter 8
Everyone gasped.
Mike returned the hit almost instantly.
Despite his polite and non–violent demeanor, no one expected him to be such a surprisingly skilled fighter.
In contrast. Calvin, usually lost in his studies, even though he threw the first punch, now looked like a complete rookie in front of him.
“Calvin, stop!”
Behind him, Mia anxiously tried to pull him back.
Calvin did stop.
I had stepped in front of Mike–Calvin’s fist just a few centimeters from my face.
I stared at him without blinking.
“Calvin, stop.”
That brief pause was enough for the staff to rush over and separate
them
Calvin didn’t resist; he just kept his eyes locked on me.
Looking at me crouched down, worried.
“Are you okay. Mike? Is it serious? We need to get you to a hospital!”
The others in the club were furious, ready to confront Calvin and call the cops.
Mia stepped in quickly, apologizing and trying to calm Calvin down.
But Calvin acted like he didn’t hear any of it.
Instead, he spoke to me, unwilling to let it go, “Ashley, I’m hurt too.
“Worse than him.
“You should’ve checked on me and taken me to the hospital.”
Instead of Mike.
That’s what he really meant like it was a matter of course.
If it were in the past, I would’ve panicked more than anyone. I used to worry so much whenever Calvin got hurt.
Even before all this, I never wanted him to be in danger.
But now? I just gave him a cold look.
“So what?
“Your injury has nothing to do with me.”
His stubborn expression cracked the moment I said those words. Confusion flickered in his eyes and changed when I helped Mike to leave.
“I’m your boyfriend–you’re supposed to take my side! This is cheating!”
I didn’t even look back. “We already broke up.”
“I didn’t agree! It doesn’t count!”
He was acting as irrationally as a giant baby.
But when he struggled, it must have pulled his wound, because he gasped for air.
It was like a reminder, a show of weakness, waiting for me to panic. and fuss over him.
But I still didn’t turn around.
I barely said a word the entire way to the hospital.
We got a cab, got Mike registered quickly, and headed straight to the right department. When the doctor asked how his face got injured, Mike still managed to joke, “Can it be fixed? I make a living off this face.”
It made the others who came along laugh.
I stayed behind them, silent, my expression blank.
It wasn’t until the doctor said it was just some surface wounds that the tension in my face finally eased.
I turned to Mike and said sincerely, “I’m sorry.”
He was sitting nearby, waiting to get his wound cleaned. At my words, he glanced over and gently asked, “Why are you always apologizing, Ashley?”
Suddenly, I felt like crying–even though things were supposed to be
getting better.
I thought everything was finally okay.
But reality always has a way of reminding me that it was just my
illusion.
“This is all my fault. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.
I embarrassed everyone.”
It was embarrassing.
Calvin thought I’d panic because he got hurt.
But I didn’t.
From start to finish, all I felt was overwhelming shame. I couldn’t bring myself to look at my new friends, let alone Mike.
All I could think was how humiliating it all was.
So humiliating.
“So, Ashley’s got a pretty strong arm and hit me pretty hard.”
Mike joked.
I froze. Then, almost instinctively, said, “It wasn’t me.
me.”
11:5
Chapter 9
