After all these years, Amanda finally got it.
It didn’t matter if Leila was faking it or not. The only thing that mattered was that Travis let her get away with anything. That’s why Leila could act wild and untouchable—she was protected. Meanwhile, Amanda, the so-called fiancée, had to tiptoe around, always careful not to step out of line.
That’s what love looked like, and she was on the outside of it.
Laid up in her hospital bed, Amanda glanced up to see Travis still standing there with Leila in his arms, like some tragic hero. His gaze was dark and unreadable, fixed right on Amanda.
She blinked and frowned. “Are you just going to stand there? Take her back to her room. What, you want me to apologize to her or something? She’s out cold. She can’t hear anything anyway.”
Amanda caught the faintest movement. Leila’s fist clenched, just a little. So she was only pretending to be unconscious after all. Probably pissed that she didn’t get to hear Amanda apologize.
Travis scooped Leila up. “I’ll take her back. I’ll be right back.”
Amanda waved him off. “Go ahead. She needs you more than I do. Stay with her if you want. Oh, and can you ask someone to bring me a new blanket? This one’s soaked.”
Travis' brows drew together, his eyes shadowed with something Amanda couldn’t read. Then he carried Leila out, leaving Amanda alone.
She shut her eyes, feeling… calm, honestly.
The old Amanda would have been crushed, waiting for Travis just because he said he’d come back soon. She’d be heartbroken, hoping for something—anything—from him.
But now? She just felt relief. No more caring, no more hope.
After their first engagement party got canceled, Travis had dragged her back. She’d actually believed for a second that maybe he’d finally seen her, that maybe he wanted to treat her right. She’d been so naive.
Nothing had changed. Travis was still the same. Leila would always be his favorite, his soft spot.

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