My Fiancé Kiss His Fake Fated Mate Chapter 03

My Fiancé Kiss His Fake Fated Mate Chapter 03

Now it was dead.

Maybe that was the universe’s message.

I packed all night. Everything connected to Parker went into trash bags. By dawn, the house was empty. My chest felt lighter.

I opened the front door. Parker was huddled on my porch. Soaked through. Blood seeping through his bandages.

“Everly,” he rasped, pushing himself up.

I dragged the trash bags toward the bins and walked right past him. He followed, pleading.

“Everly, let me explain…”

I heaved the bags into the bin. They landed hard and split open. Our things spilled out.

Parker froze. He lunged forward, staring at the ruined gifts. His voice cracked. “Everly… why are you throwing all this away? Are you… are you done with me?”

I crouched down and met his eyes. “Parker. You were done with me first.”

He crumpled. He grabbed the hem of my pants. “Please… don’t leave me.”

I pried his fingers off and stood. “Let go of me.”

Back inside, I ordered new furniture online. That’s when I noticed the unnatural red flush creeping up his neck. Probably a fever.

Then came the thud from the porch.

“Ah…”

He was slumped against the wall. Unconscious.

I called Dr. Holland. “Parker’s at my house. He’s unconscious. Come get him.”

Silence on the other end. “…You know?”

“That he’s faking the amnesia? Yeah. I found out yesterday.”

I hung up. Fifteen minutes later, Dr. Holland arrived with a stretcher team. They lifted Parker onto it. Dr. Holland knocked softly.

“Everly? He’s asking for you. He won’t leave until he sees you.”

I didn’t answer.

He sighed and left.

Exhaustion dragged me under. I slept for twenty-four hours straight.

I woke up just in time for my next rehab session. I took a cab to the clinic.

At the entrance, I bumped into someone.

“Sorry.”

I looked up. Parker stood there, pale as a ghost.

“Everly,” he breathed. “What are you doing here?”

I turned to go.

He grabbed my wrist.

“Ah! Let go!” Pain ripped through me. Parker’s brow furrowed hard. His eyes dropped to my loose sleeve. To my misshapen wrist. He stared. His lips parted. He looked like he was scrambling for words.

“Everly…” His voice came out raw. “Your hand… what happened?”

I wrenched my arm back. A wave of agony hit me. I swallowed the groan.

“It was crushed in the accident,” I said flatly. Then I walked toward my appointment.

Parker stood paralyzed. Like my words meant nothing. He tracked my movements but didn’t follow.

He was waiting nearby when I came out. I treated him the way he’d treated me, a stranger, and walked straight past.

Parker reached out again. This time he only caught my sleeve.

The seconds stretched. Finally, his voice cracked. “You were hurt too? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I met his stare. “Why would I? You don’t know me. Remember?”

His grip tightened. His whole body trembled. His lips moved without sound.

“How…? How did this happen?” He shook his head, pleading. “I held you. I swear I held you.”

He mimed the motion, arms wrapped around an invisible person. “Like this. I protected you.”

“I held you,” he repeated over and over. Trying to rewrite reality.

People were staring. Slowing down. Watching.

“Parker.”

He didn’t respond.

“Parker.”

He snapped back at last. His gaze landed on my arm. Grief crashed across his face.

“Your plan was smart,” I said softly. “Your instincts saved me.”

“But you were only trying to sideswipe the guardrail. You didn’t expect the rain. You didn’t expect the skid.”

Parker had only meant to injure himself in that crash. He never imagined the car would flip. But in those final seconds, he used his body to shield me.

If I hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt. If he hadn’t pinned me hard against the seat. I wouldn’t have walked away with just a shattered wrist. I’d be dead. “So I still thank you, Parker…”

I stopped. The bloodless gray of his face silenced me.

I turned to go. I didn’t want to watch him collapse again.

A few steps later, a heavy thud behind me.