He Was But A Failed Detour

The doctor said with a helpless smile that it was only a superficial injury, but he insisted on a tetanus shot anyway, terrified that she might get an infection.

And now—

Beth lowered her head and looked at her pale fingertips. Suddenly, she laughed.

She laughed and laughed, until tears came crashing down.

Leaning against the wall, she dragged herself back to the dorm, limping the entire way.

The pain in her waist grew sharper by the minute. Dizzy and barely able to stand, she pulled out her phone to call a car to the hospital—when someone suddenly seized her wrist from behind with brutal force.

"Beth!" Rick's voice was tightly restrained with fury. "Summer fainted from anger because of you, and you still won't let it go? Hiding here, playing dead?"

She turned and met his tightly furrowed brows and the chill in his eyes.

He was dressed in a white lab coat, as aloof and refined as ever. Only now, his body carried the scent of the perfume Summer always wore—cloying and nauseating.

"I need to go to the hospital…" Her voice was so soft it was nearly inaudible.

Slowly, she lifted her hand, pulled aside the hem of her clothes, and pointed to the vicious bruise on her waist.

"I'm hurt too."

Rick froze. Only then did he notice her deathly pale face and the fine beads of cold sweat on her forehead.

"You said that once the final results came out, you would clear my name." Beth looked at him, her eyes rimmed red. "But now, can you still see me at all?"

His brow furrowed even deeper. He reached out, as if to touch the bruise. "What happened?"

"You pushed me," she said calmly. "I hit the lab bench."

Rick's pupils contracted, as if the scene finally came back to him.

Most of his anger dissipated at once. He pulled her into his arms.

"Beth, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I was just afraid something would happen to Summer. She's the face of the entire project right now. If she collapses, all our previous efforts will be wasted…"

Beth let him hold her, her gaze hollow, like a deep, dried-up well.

She had heard these words too many times before.

"I understand." She pushed him away. "Go check on her."

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her wrist again.

"Beth, no matter what, you have to believe that you're the only one in my heart. Everything I've done has been for us—to secure an academic position that no one can shake."

He gently stroked her hair, his voice tender as poison. "I'll have my assistant take you to the hospital. I need to go calm the board right now."

With that, he let go and hurried off, his retreating figure edged with anxiety.

Beth stood where she was, watching his tall silhouette fade into the distance.

She suddenly laughed, laughing until tears fell.

"I don't believe you anymore…" she whispered. "Rick—not a single word you say."

…

Over the next few days, Beth saw almost daily updates on the institute's internal network about Rick and Summer "fighting side by side."

In the photos, Rick bent his head, patiently guiding Summer, his expression focused. She stood close beside him, smiling with confidence and sweetness.

Her fingertips trembled as she swiped through them, one by one.

There were photos of him staying late into the night with Summer in a conference room, forcefully rebutting dissent. Photos of him personally clearing up the so-called "data controversy" for her. Photos of him praising her in front of all the researchers, calling her "possessed of the keenest academic intuition."

With every image, it felt as though a dull blade sliced into her heart.

And yet, as the pain continued, she realized she could no longer feel it.

Perhaps her heart had already died the moment he pushed her away for Summer.

Just as she was about to mute all the notifications, her phone vibrated again.

It was an email from the International Association for Medical Applications.

She opened it, and what she saw stole her breath away.