The Boy Who Tattooed My Name on His Chest novel Chapter 17

Lincoln, aware of my lingering trauma from that previous accident, immediately spoke to comfort me.

"Laura, are you okay? Don't be scared—I'm here."

I choked out a soft "Mm-hmm" in response.

But before he could come to my side, a soft sobbing voice came from the backseat.

"Lincoln… don't leave me. My stomach hurts so much. What should I do…"

It was Rosemary.

Without a second thought, Lincoln turned his attention to her.

He pulled Rosemary out first, carefully checking if she was injured.

Meanwhile, my awkward position in the overturned car was cutting off my circulation, making me feel increasingly lightheaded.

Dazed, my mind drifted back to the memory of Lincoln shielding me during the car accident two years ago.

But now, when I turned to look, he was protecting Rosemary with the same gentleness he once showed me.

"Lincoln…"

Fear surged within me, and I instinctively called out to the person I trusted most.

But the hand I reached out for help met only empty air—no response came.

"Laura, Rosemary's stomach really hurts. I need to take her to the hospital first…"

He left me with a single sentence: "Wait here for me like a good girl," before carrying Rosemary away.

I watched Lincoln's figure grow smaller as he walked away, no longer screaming for him in desperation.

Suppressing my fear, I forced myself to stay calm.

I wasn't sure how long had passed before the traffic police arrived and rescued me from the car.

After heading down the mountain to give a statement and resting for a while, I still felt lingering fear as I made my way to the dress shop that evening.

When the clerk brought out the gown Lincoln had prepared for our engagement banquet two years ago, I finally started to snap out of it.

Taking the dress in my hands, I noticed several mysterious stains on it.

After asking the clerk, I learned that Rosemary had tried on the dress.

A wave of nausea swept over me, but fortunately, I no longer needed the dress.

As I stepped outside, my phone buzzed with a message from Jasper.

Rosemary approached, eyeing the jagged scar on my body with a mocking gaze.

"Tsk tsk, Laura, if I were you, I'd be too embarrassed to wear an evening gown."

"No wonder every time Lincoln's with me, he says seeing you undress instantly kills his mood. Touching you makes him feel so disgusted he wants to puke."

Perhaps it was because any lingering feelings I had for Lincoln had completely died the moment he abandoned me during the accident.

Standing there, faced with Rosemary's provocation, I felt nothing but calm.

Her confidence wavered as she failed to provoke the anger she had expected to see in my eyes.

Ignoring her, I changed into the evening gown.

The dress's custom design was perfect—not only did it conceal my scars, but it also highlighted my figure beautifully.

As I stepped out of the fitting room, Rosemary suddenly started crying and threw herself toward me.

Just as she was about to touch me, she deliberately tripped herself and fell to the ground.

"Ah… Laura, why did you push me?!" she cried dramatically.

"I was just trying to warn you not to wear someone else's dress…"