Chapter 6

Daniel's brow furrowed deeply, but he didn't hesitate. He scooped Monica into his arms and rushed her toward safety. Gemma stood frozen, watching his figure disappear into the crowd. She could've called out to Daniel and told him she was right there. But she stayed silent. Monica wanted her to see clearly who Daniel chose between the two of them. Gemma found Monica laughable. Daniel had already made that choice three years ago. What was there left to prove? The crowd surged forward, and Gemma was shoved hard to the ground. In the scramble to escape, no one cared what they were stepping on. A foot came down on her shoulder without hesitation. Gemma screamed in pain, but it barely registered before the next wave hit her—first her head, then her legs, then her fingers. She couldn't even tell which part of her body was being crushed anymore. The thin air made her face flush red as she struggled to breathe. The pain churning in her stomach numbed every nerve in her body. Then, everything went black, and she completely lost consciousness. When she woke again, she was back in the hospital. Daniel stood at the window, cigarette in hand, exhaling slow streams of smoke. The smell made Gemma break into a fit of coughing. Startled, he quickly stubbed out the cigarette. As if afraid she would lash out, he hurried to explain. "Gemma, I was going to go back for you, I swear. But Monica suddenly got a headache. Her health isn't great. I was scared something might happen to her. So I figured I would get her out first, then come back for you, but—" "I understand," she murmured. Of course she did. How could she not? The one who really needed his explanation was Monica. She needed Daniel to show her how much he cared. Gemma didn't need him to keep proving anything to her. Seeing her like that, all the excuses Daniel had rehearsed got stuck in his throat. "You understand?" he asked. "I do. I understand," she said. She looked completely sure of herself. Daniel's expression instantly darkened. A wave of frustration caught in his chest, lodged there like a knot he couldn't swallow or shake loose. "I want to see my grandma," Gemma requested. Daniel had been waiting for her to ask him for something. But he hadn't expected it to be something so simple. After a pause, he spoke. "Gemma, your grandmother had some heart trouble a couple of days ago. But don't worry—I already had someone take her for a full check-up. Once you're better, I will arrange for you two to see each other." Her ribs were still badly bruised—every breath came with a sharp stab of pain. But hearing that Sally was sick made her chest tightened all over again. "Don't worry. It's nothing serious. I even brought in a cardiologist just to be sure. As soon as you're able to get on your feet, I'll take you to see her." Trying to make up for things, Daniel stayed by her side, barely leaving her for a moment. But the very next night, his phone buzzed in his pocket. "Daniel, I really do love you, but if we're talking about who came first—it was us. Is Gemma trying to drive me over the edge?" Monica's tearful voice rang out from the other end of the line. Then, the call was ended abruptly. Without a second's hesitation, Daniel grabbed his coat and rushed out the door. Gemma had no idea what had just happened, but her gut told her it couldn't be good. She picked up her phone and called Jennifer again. She asked, "Jennifer, can I ask one more favor?" Before Jennifer could reply, she added, "Help me find out which hospital my grandma's really in." By the time Daniel came back, it was well past midnight. Thunder rumbled outside, rain lashing against the windows. He was drenched from head to toe, water dripping onto Gemma's hospital bed. But when she looked closer, that wasn't rainwater, but blood. Gemma's eyes widened, and the first thing she saw was his stormy face. "Why did you do it, Gemma?" Daniel's expression was heavy, brooding with tension. She frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about? What do you mean, why?" Without a word, Daniel yanked his phone from his pocket and slammed it down on the back of her hand. She winced in pain, her eyes darting to the screen. The photos were taken years ago, when Monica was found unconscious in a hotel and allegedly assaulted. "Glamorous Female Attorney Assaulted After Drunken Night at Hotel!" The bold red headline blared across the screen. People were saying she knew the man had a girlfriend and got involved anyway. They even said she was nothing but a homewrecker. They called her shameless and filthy. The comment section was flooded with every disgusting word imaginable. "I already spoke to the reporter who ran the story. He said a woman with the last name Hart reached out and gave him everything for free. Her only goal was to ruin Monica. The evidence is clear, Gemma. What do you have to say for yourself?" Gemma looked up and met his bloodshot eyes, she said steadily, "It wasn't me. I didn't do it." The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the room. "Gemma, how could you become so cruel? Because of you, Monica tried to kill herself! This isn't something you can just walk away from." Daniel spun around and stormed out without a second glance. Gemma slowly moved her numb, frozen limbs. She stared at the spot where he had vanished, but all she could hear was the echo of the vows they once made at their wedding—loyalty, trust, protection. "Daniel, which one of those vows did you actually keep?"