My Fiancé Feels Everyone's Pain but Mine

My fiance, Wayne Garner, has a rare condition called hyper-empathy syndrome. Yet somehow, I'm the only person he cannot empathize with. When I develop acute gastroenteritis and the cramps become unbearable, I force myself to call Wayne and beg him to take me to the hospital. After listening to me, Wayne simply says, "Andrea has a slight cold. I have to take her to the hospital first. Hang in there." I remember during our first family dinner, Andrea Graham calls him and says she's feeling down, and he rushes off to be with her. I instantly tell him we should break up, but he grabs my hand and keeps promising it will never happen again. After that, he does keep his promise and stops responding to Andrea's requests for help. I secretly rejoice, believing that staying by his side long enough will eventually correct his misplaced empathy. But now, the same thing happens all over again. The pain in my abdomen keeps getting worse, leaving me with no choice but to dial the emergency number with trembling hands. While I'm in the ambulance, an Instagram notification pops up. Andrea has posted a photo of herself with Wayne at the hospital. The caption reads, "It's only a minor cold, yet someone still takes the time to bring me to the hospital. It feels so nice to be someone's top priority." Another wave of sharp cramps passes. I look at the job offer from Warler in my inbox and accept it. Wayne, I'm really leaving you this time. Chapter 1 The ambulance sped into the hospital with its siren blaring. The nurse examined me quickly, murmuring to the doctor beside her in a grave tone. My acute gastroenteritis had progressed to a perforation. If I had arrived 30 minutes later, the infection in my abdomen would have been enough to kill me. I gripped the bedsheet beneath me as Wayne Garner's careless words echoed in my mind. I had called him when I was in so much pain that I was about to lose consciousness, yet all he cared about was another woman's mild cold. As the nurse wheeled me toward the emergency operating room, I spotted two familiar figures around the corner. Wayne held Andrea Graham's hand in one hand and carried a bag of cold medicine with the other. He lowered his head and patiently listened as she quietly complained about how crowded the hospital was. Andrea was an underprivileged student whom he had been supporting. The instant Wayne and I locked eyes, his entire body stiffened, and panic flashed across his face. I saw him instinctively let go of Andrea's hand and take half a step forward. But then, he stopped. He turned and patted Andrea's arm to comfort her. In the end, he never walked over to me. Andrea followed his gaze to look at me, and a trace of triumph crossed her eyes. She deliberately leaned even closer to Wayne. I looked away from Wayne, letting the nurse wheel me down the hallway. The moment I entered the operating room, the tears I had held back for so long finally slipped silently onto my clothes. A dull pain from the surgery came in waves, but I didn't shed another tear. Ever since the first time he abandoned me for Andrea, a crack had formed in my heart. Today, my heart finally shattered beyond repair. After the surgery ended, I was placed in a private room. Not long after, the door to my room was gently pushed open. Wayne walked in with a trace of guilt on his face. He pulled a chair over and sat beside my bed, reaching out to touch my forehead, but I instinctively turned my head away. His hand froze in midair, and his voice softened. "Andrea just got here and has no one to rely on. I didn't think your condition would be this serious. I'm sorry I neglected you today." Neglected. What a light word that was. I forced a faint smile. The movement pulled at my incision, and the pain made me inhale sharply. All that was left inside me was nothing but disgust. My voice was weak but unusually firm. "Wayne, let's break up." His face darkened instantly, and he began to guilt-trip me with the same old lines. "I already apologized. Do you really have to keep holding on to it? I was just taking care of a friend. Why do you have to be so petty? Can't you be a little more understanding?" I stared at the ceiling, listing every empty promise he had ever made, word for word. "At that dinner, you left me to be with Andrea. Back then, you held my hand and told me it would be the last time. "Since then, every time she came to you with some minor issue, you'd come back and make a bunch of promises to me. You said I was the only one in your heart and that you knew what mattered most. But what about today? Wayne, your promises mean absolutely nothing." He still wanted to argue. A sharp pain suddenly shot through my abdominal incision, and I curled up in agony. I couldn't be bothered to argue with him anymore. I simply closed my eyes and stopped responding to anything he said. When Wayne saw that I had stopped arguing, he assumed I had relented and forgiven him. The tension on his face eased a little, and he sat by my bed, going on and on about how he would make it up to me once I was discharged. My heart went cold, and I quietly made up my mind. Once my wound healed and I was discharged, I would leave for Warler right away. I would leave this city full of disappointment for good and leave Wayne behind. Chapter 2 Before long, Wayne's phone buzzed. He glanced down at the screen, his eyes softening. He stood up and gave me a casual excuse. "Something urgent came up at the office. I need to step out for a bit. I'll be back soon." I knew without even looking that the message was from Andrea. Perhaps she thought he had stayed with me for too long, or perhaps she wanted him to bring her something. In the past, I would have grabbed him and demanded an explanation. But now, I didn't even have the strength to look up. I just gave a flat hum in response. Seeing that I made no attempt to stop him, Wayne turned and left, clearly relieved. He gently closed the door, afraid of disturbing me, but that thoughtfulness came far too late and seemed insincere. I didn't know how much time had passed before the door was gently pushed open again. Wayne walked in, carrying an insulated food container printed with the logo of a popular dessert shop. There was a trace of forced tenderness in his expression. He set the container on the nightstand and pulled up a chair to sit down. "I went out of my way to buy you some warm oatmeal. It's fresh off the stove. Eat some while it's still hot. It's good for your recovery after surgery." He took off the lid, and the aroma of the oatmeal drifted out, yet I immediately caught the familiar sweet scent of honey. That was something I had been allergic to since birth. I stiffened. My stomach churned, and my incision throbbed along with it. "Is there honey in this? Don't you know I'm allergic?" Wayne froze for a moment, then hurriedly scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal to inspect it closely. He said in a casual tone, "Andrea ordered two portions earlier. She has a small appetite and couldn't finish them. This one was portioned out separately and wasn't touched. "The waiter probably mixed them up while packing everything. The honey was only in her serving. It didn't get into yours. It's fine." So he had been gone for so long just to accompany Andrea for a meal. This oatmeal, which was supposedly meant to nourish my body, was nothing more than the portion she couldn't finish. I curled my pale lips into a faint smile. "Are you bringing me her leftovers?" Wayne frowned, a touch of impatience creeping into his tone. "How can you say that? The oatmeal was completely untouched. Throwing it away would just be wasting food. "I brought this over especially for you. I was thinking of you the whole time, yet you're nitpicking over such a trivial matter. Andrea just has a small appetite and couldn't finish it. It's not like it's chewed-up leftovers. Can you stop being so sensitive?" Every word out of his mouth excused Andrea while accusing me of making a big deal out of nothing. I lay on the hospital bed, having nearly lost my life. Yet in his eyes, it was merely me being petty and refusing to show understanding toward his friend. I dug my nails deep into my palms. The physical pain couldn't compare to even a fraction of the deep despair in my chest. Just as I opened my mouth to argue, the wooden door of the room was suddenly shoved open. Andrea stood at the doorway carrying a beautiful fruit basket. Her eyes were red, and she wore the fragile expression of someone who had been greatly wronged. Her gaze fell on the container on the table, and she let out a soft laugh. Her tone was openly provocative. "Wayne, no wonder a portion of oatmeal was missing when the waiter packed our food earlier. So you brought it to Edith. "I took two bites of that oatmeal and really couldn't eat another bite, so I had the waiter pack it up. I didn't expect it would still get mixed up. If I had known it would upset Edith, I would have just thrown it away." Her words hit me like a heavy blow. The oatmeal Wayne had confidently claimed was untouched was nothing but Andrea's leftovers. Chapter 3 Wayne's face instantly turned bright red. He was so flustered that he didn't know what to do and couldn't even look me in the eye. He turned to comfort Andrea first, reaching out to pat her arm gently. "It's windy outside. Why did you come all the way here?" Andrea lowered her eyes, her voice soft and plaintive. "I was worried that you and Edith would argue, so I came over to check. If I had known that bowl of leftover oatmeal would upset Edith, I would have just thrown it away. It's my fault for causing her trouble." All the resentment, pain, and disappointment I had bottled up for so long exploded at that moment. I no longer wanted to keep giving in. For the first time, I straightened my back and fired back at her without hesitation. "Andrea, if you really felt sorry, you wouldn't have come all the way to my hospital room to tell me to my face that the oatmeal was your leftovers. "You knew I just had surgery for gastroenteritis and that I was allergic to honey, yet you still let Wayne bring me leftovers that contained honey. Who exactly is causing trouble on purpose?" My voice wasn't loud, but every word came out crystal clear, and I didn't back down in the slightest. Andrea never expected that I, who had always been gentle and yielding, would stand up to her. She froze for a few seconds. The next moment, her eyes quickly filled with tears, and her shoulders trembled slightly. She hid behind Wayne as if she were the victim, clutching his sleeve tightly, and began sobbing quietly. When Wayne saw her crying, his face instantly turned frighteningly grim. He turned to look at me, his eyes full of disappointment and blame. "Edith Trevino, do you have to speak so harshly?" he demanded. "Andrea kindly went out of her way to visit you, but you were so aggressive that you scared her to tears. Don't you have even the slightest respect for other people?" The incision on my abdomen throbbed in waves, and cold sweat ran down my forehead. "She came here to provoke me. She deliberately showed up to reveal that the oatmeal was the portion she had left behind, clearly wanting to humiliate me." "She was just joking. Do you really have to keep making such a big deal out of it?" Wayne said. He gently patted Andrea's back, comforting her softly. When he turned to look at me, his voice became incredibly cold. "Look at Andrea. You've scared her like this. Apologize." I stared at him blankly, unable to believe what I was hearing. I had nearly died from a perforation caused by acute gastroenteritis, and he showed no concern. But when Andrea deliberately came to humiliate me, he actually forced me to back down and apologize. I bit my lower lip. My eyes became misty, but I stubbornly refused to let the tears fall. "I won't apologize." Seeing that I refused to give in, Wayne's expression turned cold. His tone carried an obvious threat, each word aimed at my greatest weakness. "Edith, think carefully. You haven't worked for the past few years, and you don't have a single dollar in savings. Every medical bill and hospital expense for this surgery was paid with my card. "If you refuse to apologize to Andrea today, I'll stop paying any of your treatment expenses starting right now. I'll also make you pay back every single dollar I've spent on you over the past few years." His few casual words cut off every escape route I had. I lay on the bed, unable to move. I still needed money for follow-up observation, wound care, and medication. Besides, my onboarding process for my new job in Warler hadn't been finalized yet. Without a single dollar to my name, I couldn't afford to stand up to him right now. Andrea hid behind him and secretly glanced at me, her eyes filled with unmistakable triumph. Despair spread through every part of my body. After a long moment, I closed my eyes and gave in, my voice almost inaudible. "I'm sorry." Those words stripped away the last bit of my dignity. Hearing my apology, the hostility on Wayne's face vanished instantly. He turned to gently comfort Andrea. Then he casually picked up the insulated container and the fruit basket. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and walked out of the room without looking back. The door closed behind them, shutting out the sound of their quiet laughter and conversation. Chapter 4 I was left alone in the spacious private room. Turning onto my side, I buried my face in the pillow and cried silently. For the next five days, Wayne never once set foot into my room again. The caregiver came on schedule every day to change my dressing and bring my meals, occasionally chatting with me for a bit. Whenever I brought up Wayne, she simply shook her head and said she had never seen him come by. I didn't feel disappointed at all. Instead, I felt unusually at peace. From time to time, I checked Instagram and saw Andrea posting updates constantly. In one photo, Andrea and Wayne were walking through a street fair by the river. That was the very place we had planned to visit on New Year's Eve the year before. I had arranged it with him half a month in advance. However, at the last minute, he claimed he had to work late and left me waiting at home alone until after midnight. In another post, Wayne was bending down on an upscale shopping street to tie Andrea's shoelaces. I had once set my heart on a pair of flats and begged him again and again to go shopping with me. He complained that shopping was too much trouble, yet now he gladly spent the entire day shopping with Andrea. At a scenic restaurant, he patiently peeled shrimp for Andrea at the table. I had once reserved a table at that same restaurant for my birthday, but after getting a call from his assistant halfway through, he left me there by myself. In the past, I would have stared at those photos all night without sleeping. But now, those glaring displays of affection no longer bothered me in the slightest. While recovering over those few days, I completed all the necessary paperwork. I contacted the company in Warler, coordinated my onboarding and accommodation with them, and booked a direct flight to Warler for the day of my discharge. Seeing me handle everything on my own, the caregiver often urged me to contact Wayne out of concern. I simply shook my head calmly and told her there was no need. On the day I was discharged, the caregiver helped me pack my personal belongings, which only filled a small backpack. It contained my ID, my phone, and the onboarding documents for my new job. For years, I had depended on Wayne for everything. He paid for my food, clothes, and daily expenses. Now that I was leaving, I didn't want to take a single thing that belonged to him. I wanted to make a clean break and owe him nothing. The caregiver wheeled me to the hospital entrance. After thanking her and saying goodbye, I took a cab to the airport by myself. Meanwhile, Wayne was shopping with Andrea. Halfway through, she casually mentioned my hospital stay. Only then did he suddenly realize that he hadn't gone to see me in five days. Guilt washed over him. After comforting Andrea, he immediately drove to the hospital. When he pushed open the door to my room, it was completely empty. The bed had already been stripped and cleaned, and nothing that belonged to me remained. Panic surged through him instantly, and he pulled out his phone on instinct. He first opened up our chat, typed out a long message of apology, and hit send. A red exclamation mark immediately popped up on the screen. His fingers froze. Unwilling to give up, he called my number. The cold automated message played over and over on the other end. He called several times in a row, but each call ended the same way. An inexplicable panic gripped Wayne. He gripped his phone tightly, rushed to the doorway of the restroom, and stopped the caregiver who was wiping down the counter. His voice was frantic. "Where's the patient who was staying in that room? Where did she go?" Wiping the edge of the counter, the caregiver said flatly, "She was discharged this morning and went straight to the airport to catch a flight. Before she left, she told me that she never wanted to come back to this city again." Wayne's pupils shrank sharply. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "She flew out?" His heart sank. A fear he had never experienced before swept over him. "Where did she go?" "Warler. She said she had already found a job there and planned to settle down for good," the caregiver answered. Wayne stood frozen. The job offer I had once shown him, which he had only glanced at carelessly, suddenly came rushing back into his mind.