My Fiancé Chose Her So I Chose Myself Chapter 03
That afternoon, after handing over the first batch of my project files, I was hit by a wave of dizziness.
My forehead was burning, the pain in my stomach had sharpened, and my wolf’s natural recovery wasn’t kicking in.
I straightened my desk, called a car, and went to an urgent care clinic downtown.
The triage nurse took my temperature and told me I was at a hundred and three. The doctor diagnosed acute gastroenteritis and severe dehydration, ordering an IV immediately.
When the nurse came to insert the line, I couldn’t stop trembling. It took her two tries to get the needle in.
I sat alone in the infusion bay, watching the clear fluid drip slowly into my vein.
The scent filters in the clinic were strong, dulling my senses to keep the smell of blood from triggering any patients’ shifting instincts.
My phone buzzed. Thinking it was a message from a coworker, I unlocked it with my free hand.
It was a voice message from Evan. I hit play by accident.
His voice filled the quiet space.
“Nat, who are you even mad at? It’s Jenna’s birthday. We’re all waiting at the bar to cut the cake. Are you just ignoring us on purpose?”
I didn’t reply.
So today was Jenna’s birthday.
That explained the seafood lunch and the private room they’d booked for the party.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the chair.
Two hours later, the last bag of medication was empty.
The nurse removed the IV and told me to press a cotton ball to the back of my hand. My face was pale as I made my way slowly toward the exit.
As I passed the hallway by the triage desk, I heard a familiar voice.
“She’s bleeding a lot. Can you see her right away? Her recovery is weaker than a normal wolf’s.”
I stopped.
A few yards away, Travis and Evan were rushing in with Jenna between them. Brooke followed close behind, looking like she was about to cry.
Jenna was clutching her right index finger, her eyes red and teary.
The ER doctor glanced at the wound.
“It’s a superficial cut. It doesn’t need stitches. We’ll clean it and put a closure strip on it.”
Travis stepped in front of the doctor, his voice tight with alarm.
“Are you sure? What if it gets infected? Can you have a specialist in shift injuries take a look?”
Evan also demanded a full blood panel to make sure nothing else was wrong.
The doctor informed them there was no medical indication for that, then signaled for a nurse to take Jenna to have the cut cleaned.
I watched them all crowd around her.
Yesterday, I had pushed five suitcases through freezing rain by myself. Today, my recovery had failed under a high fever, and I’d come here for IV fluids alone.
Jenna nicked her finger cutting her birthday cake, and all four of them had come running.
I turned to leave through the other exit.
“Nat?”
Evan was the first to spot me.
He strode over and grabbed my wrist, his fingers pressing right on the fresh puncture mark from the IV.
A sharp pain shot up my arm. My nails nearly lengthened into claws on instinct.
“Let go of me,” I said, my voice low and tight.
Evan frowned, looking me over, but he didn’t release me.
“Why are you here?”
Travis heard us and handed Jenna off to Brooke, his expression darkening as he approached.
“Natalie, this is too much.”
He kept his voice low, but the anger was unmistakable.
“Fine, you didn’t want to come to Jenna’s birthday. But now you’re following us to urgent care? Do you have to ruin tonight?”
“I didn’t follow anyone.”
“Still lying?” Brooke rushed over and pointed a finger at me. “You just can’t let Jenna have one decent birthday, can you? Now you’re here pretending to be the victim.”
Leaning against the wall, Jenna spoke softly, her voice laced with disappointment.
“Natalie, if you have a problem with me, you can just say it. You don’t need to do all this just to get Travis and Evan’s attention.”
Travis’s face went colder.
“Jenna is still trying to defend you, even now. Just stop it. Go home and quit making a scene.”
They stood in front of her like a human wall, shutting me out completely.
I yanked my hand free. The cotton ball dropped to the floor, and a bead of blood welled from the needle mark.
“Look closer.” I raised the back of my hand, showing them the hospital band wrapped around my wrist. “I had a hundred-and-three-degree fever. My recovery failed. I just finished my IV treatment here.”
Travis froze.
His gaze dropped to the needle mark, then to the bracelet. He finally registered the lingering scent of my fever and the medicinal smell clinging to my clothes. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face.
He opened his mouth, but I had no interest in hearing whatever he was about to say.
“You can keep telling yourselves whatever story you want.”
I walked around them and pushed open the doors to the clinic.
Snow had just started to fall outside. I didn’t look back.