The Substitute Who Stole His Heart

“Alright, enough tears. I’ll handle this for you.”

He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, dabbed at the tears trailing down my cheeks, and pressed a soft kiss to my temple before standing to fetch a cooling compress, muttering to himself as he went.

“Look at you—so independent, yet still flinching at every little pain. Always crying. What would you do if I weren’t here?”

I stared blankly at the angry red mark on my wrist. Seven years of being coddled, of him wrapping me in care and attention. What would I have done without Caleb? And yet… I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t want this pretend connection. Not anymore.

That night, sleep evaded me. Whether it was the sting in my hand or the sharp realization of my own feelings, I couldn’t find rest. I tossed and turned, sheets damp with sweat, desperate for oblivion. Hours passed before exhaustion finally claimed me.

Just as the first light of dawn crept in, Caleb shook me awake.

I groaned and tried to push him off, but he only chuckled and leaned down to press a quick kiss to my lips.

Instantly, all my weariness vanished. I wanted to push him, slap him even, but restrained myself just in time.

“Morning, my sleepy little star?” he teased.

I turned my face away, wiping my lips with distaste.

“It’s the weekend. Why can’t you let me sleep in?” I grumbled, dragging myself upright.

Caleb’s expression softened into one of helpless concern. “Did you even realize you ran a fever last night? Come on, get up. I’m taking you to the doctor.”

I paused, studying him. Was he acting out the role of a caring boyfriend, or did he genuinely care about me? The worry etched on his face was real, yet it didn’t feel like it was truly directed at me.

Still, I couldn’t argue, so I reluctantly followed.

In the clinic’s hallway, we almost collided with Marina. She was limping slightly, clearly having hurt her foot, and struggling to make her way down the corridor.

Caleb, who had been so gentle moments before with me, immediately furrowed his brow.

Without even looking at me, he hurried to Marina’s side, supporting her carefully.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Marina glanced past him toward me and smiled faintly. “Just a sprained ankle. Funny coincidence—you’re here for a checkup too?”

Caleb froze for a heartbeat, glancing back at me with an expression I recognized all too well: guilt hiding behind composure. It had always been there when Marina appeared, but now it was glaringly obvious.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, adjusting his posture. “My… friend’s little sister had a fever, so I brought her along for a check-up.”

I wasn’t surprised. I shouldn’t have been. Ever since Caleb refused to make our relationship public, I had been “the younger sister of a friend”—no one outside his inner circle knew the truth.

Marina nodded. “Of course you have to take care of her. I’ll manage, you two go ahead.” She gestured toward another wing of the clinic.

Without hesitation, Caleb scooped her into his arms. “I’ll get you over there. Valencia, wait here.”

Watching them, I felt a strange emptiness, as though the energy had been drained from my body. Maybe it was the fever, or maybe it was the ache in my chest at seeing him care for her more than me. My knees shook, and I had to lean against the wall, saying nothing.

Caleb didn’t even glance at me again as he carried Marina away. It didn’t seem to matter that I was sick. It didn’t seem to matter at all.

No matter how perfect Caleb appeared, around Marina, his true emotions always slipped through—betraying the illusion he maintained. And he didn’t even realize it.

I forced a bitter smile, turning toward the doctor’s office to attend to my fever alone.

Sure enough, the thermometer confirmed it: 41.3°C. The burn on my wrist had become infected, worsened by emotional stress, and now a viral infection had taken hold. The doctor instructed me to drink boiled herbs and a medicinal infusion.

Out of habit, I reached for my phone to call Caleb—but stopped before even dialing.

Habit was dangerous.

I chuckled at myself softly, put the phone away, and headed to the patient lounge, carrying my herbs and infusion alone.