Reboot My Heart

One day, after getting rear-ended outside my office, I, Maeve Dahlman, call out for help, but Austin Cooper, who is simply passing by with Carmen Holt, merely glances at me impatiently, annoyed that I've disrupted their lunch plans.

Instead of helping, he has his assistant take me to his private club and lock me in a room, accusing me of being paranoid and dramatic.

"I'll give you three days to calm down," he says before walking away and leaving me in isolation.

Eventually, I escape and call the police. An ambulance rushes me to the hospital, where doctors diagnose me with a brain injury that requires immediate surgery.

I keep calling Austin, only to realize that he has blocked my number. Then, I see Carmen's latest post online, gushing about a romantic luxurious dinner with him.

After I'm discharged, I cancel the wedding, destroy all the invitations, and finally call my mother.

"Mom," I say, "I've made up my mind. I'm ready to meet him."

Mom's excitement was unmistakable on the phone.

"Maeve, you finally came to your senses. Your dad and I knew from the beginning that he's not the right match for you. A small startup might sound impressive, but internet companies are all flash and no substance.

"It's nothing compared to a solid, stable business. What's more, he's never even visited us in the last six years. A man like this has no intention of committing to you, darling…"

Each of her words cut through my stubbornness, injecting reason where emotion had taken hold. It seemed that everyone around me had seen the harsh reality, but I hadn't.

During our six-year relationship, my fiance, Austin Cooper, never once agreed to meet my parents. He insisted on having the wedding in the city and dismissed traditional customs, such as having a proper meeting with my parents.

Looking back now, I realized that he never truly intended to commit to me from the start.

I took a deep breath and softly said, "I'm sorry, Mom. I've been a victim of my own stubbornness.

"Well, please arrange a meeting with Mr. Dawson for me soon."

As soon as those words rang, the door to the study was pushed open. Austin leaned against the door frame, a coffee in his hand. He squinted his eyes, and scrutinized me. "A meeting? With whom?"

I pressed my lips into a line, lacking the desire to explain myself. "Just a client."

Faced with my brief response, he didn't press further and simply stood there staring at me in deep thought. "I heard you called the police."

"I did."

He stayed quiet, then suddenly softened his tone. "I was harsh the other day. I shouldn't have done that to you. It's just that Carmen sprained her ankle, and she was alone…"

I stared at my laptop screen, tapping rhythmically on my keyboard. I refused to bring up that day, as there simply was no point in doing so.

"Whatever. It's all in the past."

Noticing the wounds on my head, Austin reached out to touch it, but I instinctively dodged him. My gaze found its way to the man I had once loved deeply. I said, "The wounds are mostly healed. Don't worry about it."

It was after I escaped from that dark room.

Carmen Holt used a project pitch as an excuse to drag Austin on a business trip to Samona. Meanwhile, I lay alone in a hospital bed, listening to the doctor explain the urgency of another cranial procedure.

I had made over a dozen calls, only to find that I had been blocked by him.

"It's fine. I'll sign it myself," I told the doctor, forcing a wry smile in response to his worried gaze.

For the next seven days post-operation, I remained alone in the hospital room. No one brought me even a glass of water. As the anesthesia wore off, the pain became so sharp that it was hard for me to breathe.

Austin, my boyfriend of six years and now fiance, was posting real-time vacation updates on social media, posing in one intimate photo after another with Carmen on the beach.

Carmen, his sweetheart, was flaunting one romantic luxurious dinner after another with him.

I numbly stared at the screen and tapped "like" on each photo.

I assumed that Austin had returned either last night or sometime this morning. I couldn't be sure, for details like that had long since lost their meaning.