I'm Terminal, Yet He's Unavailable

I had cancer. And Carl—my boyfriend of seven years—ditched me at the hospital to play fake boyfriend for his so-called best friend, just so she could dodge her parents' marriage pressure.

When the results came in, I broke down. Clutching the report, I sobbed as I called him.

"Carl, I... I..." My voice cracked.

I didn't even know how to say it.

I thought he'd comfort me. Instead, his voice came sharp through the phone.

"Can you not? Mia's just a friend. What's so wrong about me helping her?—do you have to be so dramatic? I already promised to marry you this month. What more do you want?"

"Yara, just let Carl pretend to be my boyfriend, okay? Do me this favor. You're so beautiful, understanding, and kind—you wouldn't say no, right?"

My skin was clammy, cold sweat dripping down my back from the pain. I didn't even have the energy to lift my head, let alone respond to Mia Drake.

She must've been gloating. Carl always chose her over me. Every. Single. Time. In this twisted love triangle, I'd already lost.

"Yara, I'm just helping Mia this once. Her mom's on her case. Just stay put, finish your checkup. Call me when you get the results."

Carl acted like he couldn't see my pain, his tone carrying a hint of impatience.

"Okay." Sitting outside the exam room, I ducked my head, forcing out the word. My throat burned, but I swallowed the sob clawing its way up. I would not cry. Too bad my tears had other plans, slipping down, darkening my pant leg.

My blind eye throbbed.

As they turned to leave, Mia's voice carried back to me.

"Carl, you don't think Yara's faking it just to get your attention, do you? Why doesn't she trust me? We're best buddies! If I had to pick someone, it definitely wouldn't be you."

"Enough already. You want my help or not?"

Their laughter hit like a slap, sharp and merciless. My heart twisted, tight and aching.