She Cheated and then Regreted So Much novel Chapter 3

The day I was discharged, Sarah suddenly texted me, saying she was coming to pick me up and to wait for her at the hospital.

I didn't reply.

And I didn't wait.

I picked up my medication and headed home.

When I walked through the door, the first thing I saw was Sarah, tenderly tending to William's "injury."

I glanced at the tiny cut—it probably didn't even need a band-aid, let alone all this fuss.

I thought back to last year, when I accidentally sliced my hand open on broken glass.

I'd asked Sarah to help me bandage it.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"It's just a scratch. Just wrap it up yourself."

"And don't get your dirty blood on my hands."

I ended up taking a cab to the hospital and getting stitches on my own.

William looked up at the sound of the door opening and grinned brightly.

"James, you're back! I cut my hand a little, and Sarah freaked out."

"She insisted on disinfecting it for me."

I barely reacted. "Mm."

William shifted uncomfortably, making a show of wincing.

Sarah clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"Hold still. You're bleeding."

"You need to keep it properly wrapped."

William pouted.

"It's really not a big deal. Sarah just worries too much."

Sarah carefully pressed a band-aid onto his barely-there cut before finally sparing me a glance.

Her tone was mocking.

"What, done faking sick at the hospital?"

"You really wasted a hospital bed over some petty jealousy."

I let out a dry laugh.

So that's what she thought this whole time—that I was just being dramatic.

I didn't bother responding.

I grabbed my meds and headed straight to my room.

Sarah pushed the door open and walked in, her tone commanding. 

"Since you're back, go make dinner. William wants barbecue ribs."

I was in the middle of packing and rejected her without a second thought. 

"Not happening. Figure it out yourselves."

The moment I said that, Sarah's face twisted with anger.

"What do you mean 'figure it out'?"

"Get out there and apologize right now!"

I stared at her in confusion, about to ask what the hell she was talking about.

But before I could get a word out, she grabbed a framed photo from my nightstand and hurled it at my forehead. 

Blood instantly trickled down my face. 

William walked in just then, his expression flashing with brief surprise before he smirked at me. 

The moment Sarah turned back to him, his face shifted to one of pure innocence. 

"Sarah, I know James resents me, but putting peanut butter in my food? I'm allergic…"

"I—"

Sarah cut me off, her voice laced with concern. 

"Don't talk to him, William. He's not worth it."

"Let's get you to a doctor."

And just like that, Sarah rushed a completely unharmed William to the hospital, leaving me behind with a bleeding forehead.

I looked down at the shattered picture on the floor. 

Sarah's face beamed with happiness in my arms. 

Our first photo together. 

She used to say it was her favorite.

Ignoring the blood dripping down my face, I picked it up, tore it in half, and tossed it in the trash—along with whatever attachment I had left.