---- Chapter 28 No.28 The sight of her walking away from him, choosing to re-enter a dusty construction office rather than share the same piece of asphalt with him, was the final nail in the coffin of his hope. He sat in his car, his body trembling, his mind a maelstrom of regret and self-loathing. The despair was so profound it manifested physically. A crushing weight on his chest, a shortness of breath. The world outside his windshield began to tilt and blur. He felt a sharp, searing pain in his left arm. His heart hammered against his ribs in a wild, erratic rhythm. He was having a heart attack. The irony was not lost on him. His broken heart was literally breaking. With his last ounce of strength, he fumbled for his phone and dialed 911. He managed to gasp out his location before the phone slipped from his numb fingers. The world went black. Clare, from the office window, saw the ambulance arrive. She saw the paramedics pull an unresponsive Chase from the car. She watched, her face impassive, as they worked on him, loading him onto a gurney and into the back of the ambulance. She felt a flicker of something-shock, maybe. But not pity. ---- Not concern. It was like watching a dramatic scene in a movie. It had nothing to do with her. She called Isolde. "There's been an incident," she said, her voice calm and clinical. "Chase had some kind of medical emergency outside the site. An ambulance just took him away. "Are you alright?" Isolde asked immediately. "I'm fine," Clare said. "Completely fine. | just thought you should know." At the hospital, a nurse tried to get information from her. "Are you his wife? Family?" "No," Clare said firmly. "I'm a business acquaintance. He collapsed in our parking lot. That is the extent of our relationship." She paid for the initial emergency room fees with the company card Isolde had given her for project expenses. It was a practical necessity, not an act of kindness. A way to cleanly sever the final tie. "He has family in New York," Clare told the nurse. "And an ex- girlfriend named Karis Manning. | suggest you contact them. They are the appropriate parties to handle this." She turned and walked out of the hospital without a backward glance. Chase woke up hours later in a sterile, white room. He was ---- alone. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound. A nurse came in and explained what had happened. A mild heart attack, brought on by extreme stress. "Did... did a woman bring me in?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Clare Jennings?" The nurse checked her chart. "A Ms. Jennings signed the initial paperwork, yes. She said to contact a Ms. Karis Manning in New York for all further matters." The words were a final, clinical execution. She had brought him to the hospital, paid the bill, and washed her hands of him completely. She had outsourced his care to the woman he had used and discarded. It was a poetic, brutal justice. He was truly, utterly alone. He closed his eyes, the beeping of the machine a steady rhythm marking the slow, empty hours of his new life. In the darkness behind his eyelids, he dreamed. He dreamed of Clare, her face soft and forgiving. She was holding his hand, telling him everything would be alright. It was a beautiful, perfect lie. And it was all he had left.