From A Stand-in to Sweet Love

The electronic billboard on the street blazed brightly. The screen displayed a large photograph, proclaiming the wedding announcement of Davis Blake and Elisa Riddle. In the photo, Elisa wore a bespoke champagne-colored gown, her veil draped over Davis's shoulder; the smiles on their lips were sweetened like sugar yet pierced my eyes with pain. Suddenly, a brutal force struck my back. It wasn't a mere shove, but a spiteful blow, so powerful it sent me stumbling forward. I had no time to turn around, nor to make out the figure behind me before my body lost its balance. Beneath my feet were the spiraling mall stairs, and I rolled down the steps. My consciousness blurred as I fell, and when I opened my eyes again, I found myself beneath the hospital's white ceiling. I moved my finger slightly; an IV line was inserted into my wrist, the skin around the puncture tinged with purple-blue. The nurse pushed the door open, saw that I had awakened, and said flatly, "It's good that you're awake. The doctor said you injured your throat and have temporarily lost your voice." While recording the data, she added, "Your family came by and said to tell you when you woke up." My memories were hazy, leaving only a vague silhouette of my "Husband"—a tall figure in a dark suit, speaking in a low voice. I couldn't recall his face or how we met, only hearing a voice inside me urging, "I must find him." When Davis arrived at the hospital, the sky had already darkened. He pushed the door open, the cold from outside still clinging to his suit, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. Seeing me leaning against the headboard, he didn't come closer, only stood at the door with no trace of concern in his eyes—only impatience. "Stop playing these games." He spoke, his voice as cold as ice, "The news of my marriage to Elisa has already been announced. No matter how much you feign illness to gain sympathy, it's useless." I looked at him, and tears suddenly streamed down. I wanted to explain, to tell him I wasn't pretending, but not even a sob could escape my throat. Davis frowned, clearly annoyed with me. "I don't have time to waste on you. The medical expenses have been stopped. Handle it yourself." With that, he turned and walked away; the door slammed so hard the walls trembled slightly. When the nurse came in to change the dressing, she noticed the empty medicine tray by my bedside and sighed. "Miss, please don't blame us. Mr Blake said he would no longer cover the fees, so we have no way to provide you with medication." She gently pulled out the empty IV bag. "You'll have to manage your meals yourself as well; the hospital cafeteria doesn't offer free meals." I nodded, feeling as though cold water had been poured over me, chilling me to the core.