Before I Go

My soul was torn from my body due to immense sorrow. I hovered, invisible, above the heads of the people who had the misfortune to discover my corpse.

One of my colleagues and closest friends, Zoe Sullivan, was at that moment bent over my stiff body, weeping like there was no tomorrow.

I could not help but sigh. "I'm sorry, Zoe. I'm not worth your tears."

I glanced at my body, wincing at my own swollen, bruised face. Goodness, I'm ugly even in death!

What would Connor say if he saw that? Would he cry for me?

I let my thoughts trail to the possibilities.

Or perhaps he would hug Jasmine and say, "See? I knew she'd get payback!"

I forced out a bitter smile at that. That possibility weighed on my shoulders like a sack of rocks. Before that day, I had not thought deceased souls could feel sorrow.

Suddenly, I felt an immense pull, and when my vision cleared, I found myself sitting in a car, zooming through the traffic.

I turned around and saw Connor and Jasmine sitting in the back seat.

Connor's arms were around Jasmine. It was one of the rare times I saw him so flustered. He screeched at the driver, "Don't be scared, Mr. Lloyd! Just cut through traffic! We have a convoy, and these cars will surely let you pass! Go faster! Jasmine's in a lot of pain!"

With a sigh, Mr. Lloyd reluctantly pressed his foot against the gas. The car picked up speed and weaved through the traffic.

I looked out the window. Connor was right; about eight luxury cars surrounded our car in all directions, serving as a convoy to open up a path.

Connor had pulled out all the stops. I would be surprised if that did not headline the next day.

Suddenly, I felt a pricking sensation in my eyes, but no tears fell. It seemed I had exhausted them.

When we arrived at the hospital, Connor sprang out of the car and carried Jasmine into the building. Eventually, we ended up in a VIP ward on the topmost floor.

Connor had always been composed, but at that moment, he was so on edge that beads of sweat had collected on his forehead. He turned to the doctor and asked, "Doctor, will she be alright?"

The doctor pushed his glasses against his nose and replied, smiling, "Ms. Clark is fine. She needs to get the wound on her arm bandaged, but that's all it takes."

Connor visibly relaxed but said, "Is her heart alright?"

I rolled my eyes and shouted in his ear, "Her heart is perfectly fine!"

Too bad he could not hear me.

The doctor froze, seemingly perplexed by that, but replied, "Ms. Clark's heart didn't seem to be affected by the incident."

A smile finally broke out over Connor's face. "Thank you, Dr. Wilson."

He shook hands with the doctor and bade him goodbye. I followed Connor into the room.

That was my first time scrutinizing Connor up close. He was a finance consultant and earned a fierce reputation as Hawk-Eye and a steady fanbase due to his astute predictions.

Aside from his talent, he was also incredibly handsome. He always seemed to hold himself with such dignity, and his confidence was such that he could always stand out, no matter where he went.

Alright, albeit with shame, I must admit that his handsome looks kept me to him, for the most part.

I snapped out of my stupor and glanced at the two people curled up on the bed in an embrace.

Jasmine's face was pale, and her eyelashes fluttered as she gazed down, trying her best to look ill. Shadowed in Connor's broad frame, she looked tiny, and that seemed to make him soften even more.

All of a sudden, something occurred to me.

A memory I had attempted to shove away in a corner of my mind finally blossomed.

One night, I ran a high fever and had to visit the hospital, but as luck would have it, the hospital did not have any empty beds for me.

I had no choice but to call Connor for help, hoping that he could pull some strings and get me a bed for the night.

However, Connor's reply was not what I had hoped for. He snapped at me to stop pretending and that there were plenty of people who needed medical attention more than me. He called me a shame for wishing him to help put in a favor at the hospital for a mere fever.

At that time, I had been so naive as to write his indifference up to great integrity, and I applauded him for being so righteous.

However, I finally realized that his indifference was just that—indifference. He was cold to me because his affections were reserved for someone else.

It felt like my whole world was crashing down around me, and a twinge of pain shot through my heart.

Suddenly, Connor's phone blared a familiar ringtone. "Rosie is calling! Rosie is calling!"