I swallowed hard, my lips dry. “Who… donated blood? Did they find one? Was it Oliver?”
The nurse hesitated. Then she shook her head gently. “No. A stranger. He came right away. Paid for everything, too. Said he couldn’t just stand by.”
“A stranger?” My heart thumped strangely. “Do I… know him?”
She smiled faintly and handed me a slip of paper. “He left his number. He said you’d understand when you called.”
My hands trembled as I dialed. When the line clicked, a voice answered.
“Hello?”
Familiar. Too familiar.
“Who… are you? Why are you helping me?”
A pause. Then the voice replied softly, almost with a smile. “It’s James.”
My breath caught. James. My childhood best friend. The man who once stood by me when no one else did. The man I had rejected because my foolish heart chose Oliver.
I did everything for Oliver when someone could do a lot for me. I even invested in Oliver’s failing company, pushing him upward, and forgot about my career—only to be discarded, locked away in a house, invisible, when he finally thrived.
“James…” My chest ached with the weight of the name.