I fell off the building with my fiancé's old flame, Jasmine. Gabriel, my fiancé, rushed to save her first, leaving me to bleed out on the cold, hard ground.

In those final moments, I begged him not to leave me.

But Gabriel just kicked my hand away.

"Can't you have a shred of decency? Jasmine's unconscious because of you! I'll deal with you later for what you did to her."

But he never got the chance to.

Because as he turned and carried Jasmine away in his arms, I died. Our child died too.

1

My death was agonizing.

Bones shattered. One of my broken ribs had pierced my uterus, causing it to rupture and making me bleed out.

By the time I took my last breath, my blood had soaked the entire hospital bed.

The scene was so horrific that the doctors and nurses turned away, gagging at the sight of my mangled body.

Maybe it was because I died so full of regret, but my soul didn't move on.

I lingered, watching everything, confused and lost, until I heard a voice that pulled me out of my daze.

Gabriel Crowe.

In the operating room, he was hurriedly pulling on his scrubs, his voice soft, reassuring Jasmine.

"Just hold on a little longer, Jasmine. I'm going to start your surgery right away."

I hovered nearby, watching in disbelief. Gabriel's face was filled with an intensity I had never seen before. He was so focused and driven. The kind of care and dedication he never showed me.

After the surgery, Gabriel finally exhaled, relief flooding his features.

Jasmine's vitals had stabilized. He called for an assistant to transfer her to a regular room.

The assistant hesitated for a moment, a nervous expression crossing his face.

"Dr. Crowe... the woman who was brought in just after Ms. Fox—do you know her?"

He was trying to tell Gabriel I had died.

But Gabriel cut him off, his tone icy and detached. "I don't know that woman, and I don't care about her condition."

The assistant nodded, saying a quiet "Understood."

Hearing that made something inside me freeze. Of course, Gabriel hated me so much. He wouldn't even acknowledge me in front of others, not even as his fiancée.

What he didn't know was that I was already gone. I had died just a few feet away from him, in the next room.

I thought back to the moments before I fell into complete darkness. I had grabbed onto Gabriel's pant leg, desperately clinging to him, blood soaking my clothes as I begged him.

"Please... help me. I'm going to die... Don't leave me, I'm begging you..."

Anyone who saw me, covered in blood, would've at least hesitated.

But not Gabriel. He just looked down at me with pure disgust.

"Can't you have a shred of decency? Jasmine's unconscious because of you! You pushed her down those stairs and now you want to stop me from saving her? Are you that obsessed with seeing her dead? I never knew you were this evil."

His words cut through me like a knife. I let go, my bloody hands trembling as I reached into my pocket, fumbling for the pregnancy test results. I needed him to know—I was pregnant. Maybe for the sake of our child, he'd save me.

But Gabriel didn't even glance back. His final words were as cold as ice. "I'll deal with you later for what you did to her."

Then he turned, carrying Jasmine in his arms, leaving me behind, bleeding out.

By the time I pulled out the pregnancy test, they were long gone, disappearing from my sight.

Tears blurred my vision as I looked down at the test, barely able to make out the tiny form of the life growing inside me.

"I'm so sorry, baby," I whispered, though I knew no one could hear me. "Your daddy doesn't care about me. He won't save me... and he won't save you either."

2

After confirming my death, the hospital contacted my only family—my father.

When he arrived, all that greeted him was my cold, lifeless body.

He fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to comprehend how his daughter could be gone so suddenly.

Eventually, after being helped up by the nurses, he pulled himself together and tried to contact Gabriel.

He called dozens of times, but Gabriel never answered.

After being bombarded with calls, Gabriel blocked my father entirely.

Meanwhile, Gabriel was sitting at Jasmine's bedside, holding her hand as she stirred awake.

"Thank goodness," he said softly, his eyes full of relief. "I was so worried about you."

Jasmine looked pale and fragile, like a delicate flower.

Only I knew the truth—she had deliberately thrown herself down those stairs.

Tears welled up in Jasmine's eyes as she spoke, her voice soft.

"Gabriel, when I fell, I really thought I was going to die. If you hadn't gotten me to the hospital in time, I don't know what would've happened..."

She sniffled, looking at Gabriel with tear-filled eyes.

"Gabriel, from now on, my life belongs to you."

Gabriel's expression softened even further, his gaze tender.

Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bracelet, sliding it onto her wrist.

"I got you a little gift," he said. "I thought it might help lift your spirits. Staying in a good mood will help you recover faster."

I stared at the bracelet. It was the exact one I had begged him to buy me for my birthday, and he had refused. But here it was, now resting on Jasmine's wrist.

Jasmine ran her fingers over the bracelet, her face lighting up with a smile.

"Gabriel, you're too good to me..."

Then, as if remembering something, her face fell, and she looked down.

"But... do you think Emily will be upset?"

At the mention of my name, Gabriel's expression darkened instantly.

"Don't bring her up!" he snapped, his voice harsh. "If it wasn't for her pushing you down the stairs, you wouldn't have had to go through any of this!"

His grip tightened around Jasmine's hand, his voice hard.

"I'll make sure she pays for everything she's done."

3

Gabriel knew I had been taken to the same hospital as Jasmine.

He wanted to make me pay, to stand up for her.

As soon as he stepped out of Jasmine's room, a stretcher wheeled past him, carrying a body covered by a white sheet.

I knew that body was mine.

My lifeless hand, still wearing the engagement ring Gabriel had given me six months ago, dangled from beneath the sheet. That ring—a symbol of everything we had promised each other, promises he had long since broken—was still on my finger. I had never taken it off.

He couldn't possibly not recognize it.

My soul hovered by Gabriel's side, screaming silently at him, "Gabriel, this is me! This is my body!"

I needed him to know.

I wanted to see how he would react, if he'd crumble under the weight of what he'd done or if he'd shrug it off, indifferent to the fact that it was his choice that had killed me and our unborn child.

"Excuse me," the hospital staff muttered as they maneuvered the stretcher around him.

Gabriel, irritated, furrowed his brow and glanced at my hand hanging from the sheet.

Then he stepped back, annoyed, letting them pass without a second thought.

He didn't recognize me—his fiancée.

At that moment, I felt like nothing more than a tragic punchline to a cruel joke.

Once they wheeled my body into the morgue, Gabriel headed to the room where I had been treated.

"Where's Emily Lane?" he demanded as soon as he entered the room, his voice sharp.

A nurse glanced up, clearly startled to see him. "Dr. Crowe, do you know Emily Lane? I'm afraid we lost her... her injuries were too severe. There wasn't anything we could do."

The nurse's voice softened as she continued. "Her father collapsed from the shock. We're trying to contact someone to help with the arrangements... If you were close to her, maybe—"

"Are you serious?" Gabriel interrupted, his voice dripping with impatience.

"She's putting on another act, isn't she? Just to get attention? She fell down the stairs. Jasmine's fine—why wouldn't she be?"

I knew it. I knew Gabriel wouldn't believe it.

Jasmine was "fine" because Gabriel, the chief surgeon, had saved her. He rushed to her side and pulled her from the brink of death, while I was left alone, my body breaking from the inside out.

The nurse, seeing the storm of anger on his face, didn't argue. She simply nodded and walked away quietly.

Gabriel, unable to find me, went back to Jasmine's bedside.

When Jasmine heard I had "died," she put on the perfect show of concern.

"Maybe you should check on Emily," she suggested, her voice soft and sweet. "What if something really did happen to her?"

It was Jasmine who had pushed me and sent me hurtling down those stairs, yet she played the victim so convincingly.

"I'm sure Emily didn't mean to hurt me," she said, batting her tear-filled eyes. "It must've been an accident. And if she fell too, she could be hurt. You're her fiancé... shouldn't you go check on her?"

Gabriel's eyes softened with affection, falling for her act—again.

"Jasmine, you're such an angel."

But then his face hardened, his expression turning cold.

"I know Emily. She's always been jealous of you, always jumping to the wrong conclusions. She tried to stop me from getting you to the hospital, for God's sake. She pushed you on purpose. She's that vicious."

Jasmine, ever the martyr, sighed softly.

"It's okay. I don't blame her. I just worry that she might be hurt too..."

"There's no way," Gabriel said, his voice firm.

"Emily's always playing these tricks. Remember when she faked being sick with pneumonia just to get me to come back home from abroad? She loves to act like the victim. But she's not fooling me. Not anymore."

I tried to speak, to tell him the truth, but no sound came out.

Gabriel had always known my health wasn't great.

I had spent countless days dragging myself to the hospital alone, never telling him.

I didn't want to weigh him down, didn't want to become a burden during the critical years of his career.

Every time I came home, weaker than before, he'd joke, "Are you faking it again? Trying to get me to stay with you longer?"

And I'd laugh along with him, playing the part of the "strong" fiancée who never complained.

Meanwhile, Jasmine would call him constantly, claiming she felt sick, and asking him to check on her.

And every time, Gabriel dropped everything to be with her.

When I first found out, I was furious.

I confronted Jasmine, ready to call her out for what she was doing.

But before I could get a word in, she burst into tears.

It was a performance I couldn't compete with, so I left.

Later, Gabriel stormed into the room, rage etched on his face.

"Why did you go after Jasmine?" he demanded. "She's not well, and I've known her since we were kids. What's the harm in me helping her out?"

He pulled out his phone, showing me a photo of Jasmine's tear-streaked face with a red handprint across her cheek.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why can't you just talk things out like a normal person? Did you really need to slap her?"

I stared at the photo, completely dumbfounded. I hadn't laid a hand on her.

But none of it mattered.

Gabriel didn't believe me.

He pointed his finger at me, his voice sharp and unforgiving.

"If you have a problem with me, take it out on me. Leave innocent people out of it."

I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted him to see that Jasmine wasn't so innocent.

She was the one who had shoved me, the one who had sent me plunging to my death.

4

I watched, helpless, as Gabriel and Jasmine exchanged tender looks before wrapping themselves in a tight embrace. It felt like the air around them was drenched in a warmth I could never break into.

Jasmine stayed in the hospital for a few more days, under Gabriel's constant care.

Every detail was attended to by him. I used to think he was the kind of man who hated handling these types of things, but clearly, I'd been wrong. He was willing to do it all—for her.

When she was finally discharged, it was Gabriel who took her home. But Jasmine, ever the damsel, wasn't ready to let him go.

"Gabriel," she said softly, her eyes full of that calculated innocence, "I don't want my parents to worry... but I'm so clumsy, and I can't take care of myself right now. Could you stay with me a little longer?"

I watched Gabriel as his face softened.

He wrapped his arms around her as though she were the most delicate thing in the world.

"Of course, I'll stay," he murmured. "I'll take a few more days off, just to be here for you."

I couldn't even begin to describe the sour feeling in my chest.

The man who used to tell me how he hated being tied down by anyone was now all too eager to tie himself down to her. The things I was always afraid to ask for, Jasmine received without hesitation.

Their moment was interrupted by the shrill ring of Gabriel's phone.

He frowned, checking the screen—it was a local number he didn't recognize, but he answered it anyway.

On the other end, my father's voice was shaking with fury.

"You goddamn bastard! How could you do this to my daughter? She's dead because of you, Gabriel Crowe! She died because of you!"

Gabriel's face shifted, his expression hardening into one of annoyance.

"Are you serious?" he snapped. "Is this another one of Emily's pathetic games? Are you actually helping her this time?"

He rolled his eyes, sighing with frustration. "Now she's faking her own death? Is that what we're doing? Tell Emily it's not going to work. If something really did happen, she had it coming."

My father's grief twisted into pure rage, his words spilling out like venom.

"She's dead! My daughter is dead because of you and that woman! You two deserve to rot in hell!"

But Gabriel wasn't listening. He hung up mid-rant, shaking his head as though my father was just another obstacle in his day.

Jasmine tilted her head, curious.

"Who was that?"

"Emily's dad," Gabriel muttered, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Apparently, they're really committed to this whole charade. Now her father's playing along, telling me she's dead of all things."

Jasmine's eyes widened, as if shocked. "What kind of father says something like that?"

Gabriel shrugged with a dry laugh, as if the whole situation was some kind of joke. "Honestly? Her whole family would do anything to get me to marry her."

Jasmine's smile faltered.

Her voice was quiet as she asked, "So... do you still plan on marrying her?"

Gabriel's jaw tightened. He didn't answer right away, his brows furrowed in thought.

"We're already engaged," he finally said. "My parents love her. Breaking it off now could get messy."

He paused, sighing.

"Look, aside from the fact that she's always picking fights with me over you, she's... well, she's been good to me. It's just..."

He trailed off, and I knew what he wasn't saying.

We'd been together for eight years, engaged for six months.

Sure, I got upset about Jasmine and the way she came between us, but other than that, I'd always been there for him, no questions asked.

I understood how demanding his job was, and even when I felt invisible, I'd swallow the hurt and keep standing by his side.

When his parents got sick, it was me who spent the time, the money, the energy—doing everything I could to make sure they were okay.

But I knew Gabriel's hesitation wasn't because he loved me.

It wasn't about love at all. It was just... convenient.

Jasmine's face darkened at his words, but before she could push further, Gabriel's phone rang again.

This time, it was his father.

"Gabriel Crowe!" Victor Crowe's voice boomed through the phone. "What the hell are you thinking? How could you be so heartless?"

Gabriel blinked, caught off guard. "Dad, what—"

"I'm talking about Emily," Victor cut him off. "What's wrong with you? She's in serious trouble, and you're just standing there like it doesn't matter?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes again, laughing as if his father had joined in on the joke.

"Dad, come on. You're not falling for this, are you? Emily's just pulling one of her dramatic stunts."

Victor's voice came back, sharp and full of fury.

"This isn't some stunt, Gabriel! Emily's dead. Your fiancée—Emily—is dead."