6
The phone call ended silently.
I took a deep breath, composing myself.“My best friend’s getting married. You two coming?”
Ethan and Mason were growing distant with me.
After I moved back to Miami, we might not see each other again, maybe not even remain friends.
So I didn’t tell them the truth: I was the one getting married,
They exchanged a glance, a flicker of confusion in their eyes.
But they didn’t press it, offering a perfunctory response.
e office.
“Nah, too much work at the office.”
Ethan, still clearly upset about Qiana’s injury the previous day, grabbed some files and headed to his study without a second glance.
Mason, his face grim, said with annoyance, “Qiana got hurt because of you yesterday. You better apologize to her.
Otherwise,
not
Otherwise, I’m not interested in attending any wedding.”
He stomped off to his room, slamming the door.
I laughed, a self–deprecating sound.
Our relationship was over. Any attempts at reconciliation would be futile.
The next morning, I got up to have breakfast.
As I sat down, the strong smell of seafood hit me.
My face paled.
My heart pounded.
A terrible premonition washed over me.
I’m allergic to seafood! A severe reaction could be fatal!
I gasped for air, my breathing becoming ragged.
My throat felt constricted.
“My… my allergy medicine…”
My hands shook uncontrollably, knocking over the bowl of seafood porridge.
Crash!*
The shattered bowl and the spilled porridge created a mess.
Using the last of my strength, I staggered toward the medicine cabinet, my fingers fumbling for the medication.
Ethan and Mason rushed in, hearing the commotion.
Seeing the chaos and my distress, their reaction wasn’t concern, but anger.
“What the hell are you doing?” Ethan’s voice was icy.
I’d just found the medication and had no energy to answer.
Mason, furious, shoved me aside and knelt, frantically cleaning up the spilled porridge.
“You…”
I stumbled, hitting the corner of the table.
A searing pain shot through my waist, almost knocking the air from my lungs.
I clutched the medicine bottle, my fingers trembling, my breathing labored.
Finally, I managed to open it and pull out the life–saving antihistamine.
It felt like a lifeline.
I swallowed the pill, then collapsed into a chair.
The medicine started working, easing the suffocating feeling.
I’d survived, but Ethan and Mason were still busy cleaning up the mess.
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