When I woke up, the first thing I heard was a machine beeping beside me.

The second was Ethan’s voice.

“Clara.”

I opened my eyes.

White ceiling.

Hospital lights.

An IV in my arm.

Oxygen beneath my nose.

And Ethan sitting beside my bed.

He looked terrible.

His hair was still damp from melted snow. His expensive expedition jacket was stained with mud, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes.

Once, seeing him like that would have softened me immediately.

I would have reached for his hand.

Instead, I looked at my left hand.

My engagement ring was still there.

Suddenly it felt unbearably heavy.

“How long?” I whispered.

“You’ve been unconscious for almost six hours.”

My throat hurt.

“What did the doctor say?”

Ethan leaned forward.

“That you’re stable. They want to monitor you overnight, but you’re going to be okay.”

Going to be okay.

Such convenient words.

As if being alive erased what had happened.

He reached for my hand.

I moved it away.

His fingers stopped on the blanket.

“Clara…”

“Where is Mia?”

His expression tightened.

“Does that matter right now?”

“Yes.”

He hesitated.

“She is downstairs.”

Of course she was.

I almost smiled.

“You brought her here?”

“She was shaken up.”

I stared at him.

“She was shaken up?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I stopped breathing on a mountain because you replaced my oxygen with nitrous oxide, Ethan.”

His face hardened.

“I know.”

“And Mia is shaken up.”

“Clara, please.”

“No. Explain it to me.”

He stood.

“It was stupid, okay? I admit that. I shouldn’t have touched your equipment.”

“You didn’t touch it.”

My voice was weak, but every word came out clearly.

“You replaced it.”

He looked away.

I continued.

“You removed emergency oxygen from my backpack and put another gas in its place without telling me.”

“I didn’t know you’d need it.”

“That is why it’s called emergency oxygen.”

Silence.

For once, Ethan had no answer.

Then someone knocked.

A man wearing the red-and-black uniform of the mountain rescue service entered with a woman from Cumbres magazine.

I recognized her immediately.

Sofia Ramirez.

The editor who had personally hired me.

She didn’t even look at Ethan.

“Clara, how are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“Good.”

Her expression remained serious.

“Because when you’re able, we need your statement.”

Ethan stepped forward.

“Statement?”

Sofia finally looked at him.

“The magazine has opened an internal investigation.”

His face changed.

“This wasn’t a magazine equipment failure.”

“No,” Sofia said. “It was deliberate interference with a crew member’s emergency equipment during an authorized expedition.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened.

“You’re making it sound criminal.”

The rescue officer answered.

“That determination isn’t yours to make.”

The room went silent.

Ethan glanced at me.

I saw it again.

That fear.

Not for me.

For himself.

Sofia continued.

“We also have footage.”

His head snapped toward her.

“What footage?”

“One of the documentary cameras was recording during the ascent.”

I hadn’t known that.

Apparently, neither had Ethan.

Sofia’s voice was cold.

“It captured Miss Xu asking whether changing the tank would be funny.”

Ethan went pale.

“And?”

“It captured you saying, ‘Clara carries enough equipment to survive an apocalypse. She won’t even notice.’”

I closed my eyes.

So that was how little thought he had given it.

Not even enough to hate me.

Just enough to gamble with me.

Sofia continued.

“The camera also recorded you laughing after Clara told you she couldn’t breathe.”

“Stop.”

Ethan’s voice was suddenly sharp.

Sofia didn’t.

“And telling her not to exaggerate.”

“I said stop.”

The rescue officer stepped between them.

“Mr. Lang.”

Ethan immediately lowered his voice.

“My lawyers will handle this.”

There it was.

Not an apology.

Lawyers.

Sofia nodded.

“I’m sure they will.”

Then she turned to me.

“The magazine is postponing the expedition. Your position is protected. None of this will affect your contract.”

My eyes burned unexpectedly.

My position.

My work.

My name.

She remembered what I had almost forgotten during three years with Ethan.

I wasn’t merely his fiancée.

“Thank you.”

After they left, Ethan closed the door.

“Clara, we need to talk before you give any formal statement.”

I looked at him slowly.

“Why?”

His expression became almost pleading.

“Because this can get out of control.”

“It already did.”

“You know what I mean.”

Yes.

I did.

Lang Outdoor Group supplied climbing equipment across three continents.

Their entire brand was built around safety.

If people learned that the heir to that company had deliberately tampered with emergency equipment during an expedition…

The irony would be devastating.

Ethan sat beside me again.

“I’ll compensate the magazine.”

I stared at him.

“What?”

“I’ll cover the rescue costs. Medical expenses. The canceled expedition. Everything.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“And what do you want from me?”

His silence answered first.

Then:

“Don’t describe it as intentional.”

Something inside me finally died.

Not dramatically.

Not painfully.

Quietly.

Completely.

“But it was intentional.”

“I didn’t intentionally hurt you.”

“You intentionally changed the tank.”

“That’s different.”

“Not to my lungs.”

He rubbed both hands over his face.

“Clara, my father is already furious. The board heard about the rescue. If this becomes public—”

I started removing my ring.

He stopped talking.

His eyes dropped to my hand.

“Clara.”

The ring resisted slightly at my knuckle.

Then it came free.

Three years.

A spring wedding.

A venue already booked.

A dress hanging in my mother’s house.

Three years reduced to a small diamond resting in my palm.

I placed it on the table beside him.

Ethan stared at it.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re worried about the wrong thing.”

His face went still.

“You nearly died.”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“That’s not what you’re worried about.”

“Of course I am.”

“Then why was Mia the first person you comforted?”

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

“When I couldn’t breathe, you told me not to exaggerate.”

“Clara—”

“When Mia cried, you held her.”

“I panicked.”

“When the rescue officer mentioned negligence, you asked about consequences.”

His face drained.

“And now I’m lying in a hospital bed, and you’re asking me to change my statement because your board might find out.”

“I am trying to protect our future.”

“Our future?”

I looked at the ring.

“You traded our future for a joke.”

Someone suddenly opened the door.

Mia stood there.

Her eyes were swollen from crying.

“Clara…”

Ethan immediately rose.

“Mia, not now.”

But she entered anyway.

“I need to apologize.”

I watched her approach.

“I never wanted you to get hurt.”

“Then why did you ask him to change my oxygen?”

Her face crumpled.

“I didn’t think—”

“No. You did think.”

She froze.

“You wanted something that belonged to me taken away so Ethan could give his attention to you.”

Her lips trembled.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“It was exactly like that.”

Ethan stepped between us.

“Enough.”

And then, unbelievably, he turned toward me.

“She already feels terrible.”

I stared at him.

That sentence was almost funny.

Even now.

Even here.

He was still doing it.

Choosing her feelings over my pain.

I reached for the call button beside my bed.

“What are you doing?” Ethan asked.

I pressed it.

A nurse entered moments later.

I pointed toward the door.

“I don’t want either of them in my room.”

Ethan’s eyes widened.

“Clara.”

“Please ask them to leave.”

“Clara, don’t do this.”

I looked directly at him.

“For once, Ethan, I’m not asking you to choose between us.”

My gaze moved to Mia.

Then back to him.

“I’m removing myself from the competition.”

The nurse opened the door.

Ethan didn’t move.

“You can’t end three years like this.”

“You ended them at four thousand meters.”

His face broke.

For the first time, I saw genuine panic.

“Clara, please.”

But I had nothing left to give him.

Not anger.

Not tears.

Not another chance.

I turned toward the window.

Outside, snow was falling over the hospital parking lot.

Behind me, the nurse repeated:

“Sir, you need to leave.”

A few seconds later, the door closed.

I breathed in slowly.

The oxygen flowed easily into my lungs.

No strange voice.

No laughter.

No one telling me I was exaggerating.

Just air.

For the first time since the mountain, I could breathe without fear.

Then my phone vibrated.

Sofia had sent me a message.

There was a video attached.

Expedition Camera 3 — 10:42 AM.

Underneath it were six words:

You need to see the beginning.

I pressed play.

The footage started almost twenty minutes before I became sick.

Mia appeared beside my backpack.

Then Ethan entered the frame.

But what made my blood run cold wasn’t seeing them exchange the tanks.

It was what Mia said immediately afterward.

“If something happens, she’ll have to leave the expedition.”

Ethan looked directly toward the camera without realizing it was recording.

Then he smiled.

And answered:

“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”