Framed by the Man I Loved

I watched her from where I lay on the hospital bed, every muscle sore, my chest still fragile from the suffocating attack. Yet none of those physical pains compared to the sting of her words—and the cruel certainty in her posture, like she had already claimed victory.

My voice came out quiet, but there was no tremor in it. “I don’t want to compete with you.”

She let out a mocking laugh, dismissive, but I didn’t stop.

“You’ve already won, haven’t you? He brought you back into his life. He picked you over me. Isn’t that enough?”

Cassia’s smirk only grew sharper, unyielding. “Enough?” she echoed, her tone sweet and poisonous. She stepped nearer, leaning in so her words dripped directly into my ears. “What I want is more than victory. I want you erased.”

She lifted her hand, deliberately showing off a ring that glittered viciously under the sterile hospital light. A ring I had never seen before.

“Kael and I are getting married, Amara. For real this time. Not as a deal. Not as a contract. But because we love each other,” she said, her lips curved in a smile that cut like a blade. “So gather whatever scraps of dignity you still cling to and disappear. Leave permanently.”

The bitterness burned down my throat, but I forced myself to swallow it. “You don’t have to threaten me,” I replied, steadying my gaze on hers. “I’m already leaving. I just need a few days.”

“Perfect,” she replied in a clipped tone. “Make sure you vanish, and never dare step foot back here.”

I inclined my head slightly. “Then make certain Kael doesn’t come searching for me.”

Her laughter burst out, ringing sharp and cruel against the hospital walls. “Oh, poor thing,” she said, her eyes glinting with amusement. “You still think he would? He hasn’t even bothered to set foot here, has he?”

My chest constricted, but I forced my face to stay unreadable.

“You want evidence?” she asked, her voice syrupy with mock concern. She slipped her hand into her purse before I could reply.

She pulled out her phone, tapped, and let the recording play.

Kael’s voice filled the room, low, harsh, and filled with disdain. “Amara? She’s meaningless. Just someone to warm my bed. A glorified caretaker, nothing more. I never felt love for her. She was… useful, that’s it. You’re the only one I’ll ever love, Cassia. Forever. She’s disposable, and soon, I’ll discard her completely. You have my word.”

My stomach dropped, even though deep inside I had already expected those exact words.

Cassia tilted her head, her eyes glittering with cruelty. “Still want to believe he’ll run after you, the way he chased after me?”

My jaw tightened. My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I refused to give her that satisfaction. I had shed enough tears for him already.

“Get out of my room,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “Stay away from me.”

Before she could reply, the door banged open.

“What the hell did you just say to her?”

Kael’s voice boomed like thunder.

My head whipped toward the sound, and there he stood—sharp features hardened, his eyes cold and blazing with fury.

“She came here out of concern while you’re in this state, and that’s how you repay her?” he barked. “You should be grateful. You should be apologizing.”

I blinked, disbelief clouding my thoughts. “Apologize?” I repeated, my voice hollow. “For what?”

His expression darkened, jaw tightening. “Are you honestly asking? You’re the reason she was hurt in the first place. You’re the one who pushed her away from me. If you hadn’t meddled, she would never have been dragged into this mess. It all circles back to you.”

Something deep within me fractured then. No misunderstanding, no denial. He truly believed it.

I stared at him—really stared—and realized I no longer recognized the man before me.

“I can’t listen to this anymore,” I whispered, my voice raw. “Just leave. Both of you. I need rest.”

But Kael wasn’t finished.

He stormed across the room and clamped his hand around my arm.

“No, Amara. You don’t get to rest.”

“Kael, stop—”

He yanked me upright, uncaring of the IV stuck in my hand or the searing pain that shot through my ribs.

“Have you forgotten?” His voice was venom. “You’re supposed to be handling my birthday celebration. It’s two days away, and you’re still lying here pretending to be some helpless victim?”

“I am a victim,” I whispered, each word trembling with anguish.

He didn’t acknowledge it. Or perhaps he simply chose not to.

“Get up. You’ve got work waiting.”

I turned my gaze toward the nurse, silently pleading—but she looked away, refusing to intervene.

A scream clawed at my throat. I wanted to collapse, vanish, escape this nightmare—but I didn’t.

I forced myself to rise. Slowly. My body quivered. My side burned. My heart bled.

And still—I stood. Because all I had left to hold on to was this: just a few more days.