My Fiancé Planned 33 Accidents

When Sylvia woke again, several people stood gathered around her bed. All of them were interns under Victor, with Rachel among them.

Sylvia pushed herself upright and braced her hands against the mattress. "What are you all doing here?"

A plain-looking girl spoke with hesitation. "Dr. Rothwell said to use you as a case study, so he told us to come first—"

Before she could finish, someone elbowed her. "Why explain so much to her? Someone who lives off a favor like that doesn't deserve politeness."

Sylvia's face drained of color. In the past, those four words would not have affected her. Now, she could not even refute them. In a way, they were true. Because she lived off a favor, Victor had been bound to her side.

"Exactly," another intern added. "If it weren't for her, Dr. Rothwell could pursue his true love."

As she spoke, her gaze slid meaningfully toward Rachel at the center of the group.

Sylvia noticed the faint embarrassment on Rachel's face. A sharp ache pierced her chest.

Someone clapped her hands with sudden enthusiasm. "Do you think her mother took the blame back then just to force her daughter to marry Dr. Rothwell? With his family background, they could work their whole lives and still never reach that level."

The others echoed the sentiment at once. "That's it. Like mother, like daughter. Her mother was even more calculating."

Sylvia's hands curled into tight fists. They could insult her as much as they wanted. She could endure it. She knew she owed the Rothwell family. But her mother had taken the blame out of gratitude alone. She had never sought anything in return.

The words grew sharper and more vicious.

Sylvia could not let them drag her mother through the mud. She rose abruptly and lifted her hand toward the loudest speaker.

From the corner of her eye, Rachel saw Victor about to enter. She rushed forward and blocked the blow.

A sharp smack rang out as the slap landed squarely across Rachel's face.

Sylvia froze.

Victor arrived just in time to witness the scene. He crossed the room in two long strides, pulled Rachel into his arms, and shoved Sylvia aside.

"Sylvia, what do you think you're doing?" Anger cut through his voice.

Sylvia staggered and stared at him in shock. He had never spoken to her like this.

Victor did not spare her another glance. All his attention remained on Rachel as he led her away to treat the injury.

Ten minutes later, he returned.

"Go apologize to Rach." His first words were blunt.

Sylvia turned her head aside and stayed silent.

"I've spoiled you too much over the years," he said coldly.

Her body stiffened, eyes burning as she looked at him. "They started it. They said I'm living off a debt. They said my mother took the fall just to claw her way into your family. And I wasn't trying to hit Rachel. She stepped in front of her on her own."

Victor's expression did not soften. His voice cooled even further. "Were they wrong?"

Her pupils constricted and her breath caught as disbelief, grievance, and heartbreak surged together, nearly overwhelming her.

'Of course. Has he not always believed that? Otherwise, why would he keep hurting me to delay the wedding? Why would he insist that everything between us is nothing more than responsibility?' she thought bitterly.

Sylvia lowered her head and let out a faint, self-mocking smile. "Fine. I'll apologize."

With her body on the verge of collapse, Sylvia followed Victor to his office. When she opened the door and saw Rachel sitting alone in his chair, she paused.

A memory surfaced. Once, she had offered to pick Victor up after work. He had told her he would be late, and she had suggested waiting in his office.

He had refused. "My office has important files. I can't leave someone alone there."

Yet Rachel could sit there freely. So that was the truth. A man's principles applied only to the people he did not care for. In front of the woman he loved, they vanished.

Sylvia suppressed the spreading ache in her chest, walked up to Rachel, and lowered her head. "I'm sorry. I hit you by accident earlier."

Rachel looked startled and covered her mouth. "Mrs. Rothwell?"

Victor stepped closer and gently patted Rachel's head, his expression displeased. "We're not married yet. You don't need to call her that."

In the past, he never corrected anyone who addressed Sylvia that way. Now, because it was Rachel, he did.

Was it because he did not want the woman he loved to speak that title?

Bitterness flickered through Sylvia's eyes.

Rachel nodded obediently and corrected herself. "Miss Frost, you don't need to blame yourself. I forgive you."

Her generous response finally satisfied Victor. "You can go back and rest."

Sylvia's nails pressed hard into her palm. She turned and left the office.

Just outside the door, someone brushed against her shoulder. She lost her balance and fell heavily to the floor. Pain tore through her body, and cold sweat broke out at once.

From inside the office came Victor's gentle voice. "Does your face still hurt? I'll apply some more medicine."

That was when her tears finally fell.

They struck the floor in heavy drops. She covered her mouth to stifle the sound. Only the trembling of her shoulders revealed her grief.

…

The next day, Victor left for another hospital as part of an exchange program. He took only one intern with him: Rachel Summers.

During the week Sylvia remained hospitalized, interns kept stopping by her bed. They said Victor chose Rachel because he wanted to take her out. They said he treated her to good food. They said he took her to visit popular places.

These were all things he had never done with Sylvia.

Sylvia never responded. Each word cut into her heart until the pain threatened to split her open. At last, a sense of release flickered through her eyes. 'Victor. I'm letting you go.'

After her discharge, Sylvia went straight to the Rothwell estate. She intended to cancel the engagement.