Self

Chapter 83

That night, Yara claimed she was sick and slept alone in the guest room.

She was scared she would lose it and throw up from disgust if she had stayed for one more second in the master bedroom with him.

It had been a pitch–black night.

The wind was bone–chillingly cold.

The tears just would not stop.

The next day, she booked into the top–rated women’s health center for a check–up.

Thankfully, she was in the all–clear,

After that, she made sure to keep Yale at arm’s length.

As for him? Clueless. He totally missed all the signs.

It made sense, though. Why would he care?

Yara spat out, “You’re just so gross. Can you, like, not get any closer to me?”

Yale’s breath caught in his throat as if someone had him in a chokehold. He could

not even bring himself to meet her gaze for a second.

She knew. She knew about everything.

The sky opened up again to a soft, relentless drizzle.

The wind howled, biting to the bone.

Yale just stood there in the downpour, frozen, watching Yara walk away without moving a muscle.

Xandra burst through the rain, her voice breaking as she saw his white lips, his body shivering with no warmth.

“Yale, stop this madness. Take care of yourself for once, will you? You’re going to get sick if you stay out here!”

She stood with him, soaked to the skin, trembling. “You’re waiting for Yara, but does she even care? She doesn’t give a damn about you!

“I’m the one who loves you. I can’t let you go. Please, just let me stay with you, okay?”

Yale ignored her, eyes red. He shoved her aside. “Just leave me alone!”

“Alright, if you don’t want to go, I’ll stick it out with you!” Xandra decided, clenching her teeth. She was done trying to convince him.

Yale was lost in his own storm, oblivious to Xandra’s words and her actions.

He kept his gaze locked where Yara had disappeared, hoping against hope she would look back, just once.

However, she walked away–resolute and proud.

Overwhelmed by the sting of alcohol and the chill, Yale’s strength gave out, and he crumpled to the wet ground.

Xandra’s heart pounded with fear as she rushed forward. “Yale! Yale! Please, don’t scare me…” Tears streamed down her face.

She dashed to the end of the alley and flagged down a cab. The woman driver helped her with a Herculean effort to hoist Yale into the back seat.

Once they returned to the villa, Xandra did not waste a second. She changed Yale into fresh clothes and dried his hair with a towel, too preoccupied to notice her clothes were still damp.

After a frantic phone call, the family doctor came over quickly and set up an IV for Yale. His color had improved by midnight, though he was still out of it.

In the dead of night, a worn–out Xandra, drifting between sleep and wakefulness, heard Yale’s muffled dream talk. She edged closer and heard him whisper Yara’s name again and again.

The memory of Yale’s cold request to break up earlier that day haunted her. Her worst fears had come to life.

She could not accept it. She had invested too much time and energy to be with him, finally edging out his ex and securing her spot. There was no way she would let go. without a fight.

Xandra’s gaze turned steely as she looked at Yale, lying asleep.

Resolute, she bit her lip, stripped off her clothes, and slipped into one of Yara’s nightgowns that she had left behind.

Then, with utmost care, she draped herself over Yale.

Groggy and half–asleep, Yale felt a soft warmth against his chest and breathed in a scent he knew well. Barely able to keep his eyes open, he thought he saw Yara in the haze.