Chapter 5

The rescue team barely arrived before Mateo stumbled out—bloody, wrecked, and cradling an unconscious Helen like she was the most precious thing in the world.

He laid her on the stretcher with unbearable gentleness, not even collapsing until he was sure she was okay.

That's when everyone saw the wounds on his back.

Yara's eyes burned, but not out of pity. No, it was something else—something that dragged her straight into the past.

Mateo had chased after her for ages. And yeah, she'd noticed. She wasn't blind. But back then, she'd been too wrapped up in waiting for Steven to ever let Mateo in.

Then came the collapse. The hospital. The diagnosis—kidney failure.

She'd called her parents, sobbing, begging them to get tested.

They hadn't even hesitated.

No.

They were taking Helen on a trip.

Kidney failure wasn't fatal.

And even if it was—well, they told her to call after she was dead. Then they hung up.

She'd been drowning in hopelessness when Mateo had quietly stepped in. Got tested. Didn't even tell her. Just went under the knife.

She hadn't found out he was the donor until after the surgery.

She'd sat by his bed, crying like her heart had been ripped out. And when he finally woke up, he'd just pulled her close, thumb brushing away her tears.

"Don't cry," he'd whispered. "I wanted to do this."

She'd only cried harder.

That was the moment she thought—maybe it was time to stop waiting for something that would never happen.

Maybe she should finally see the one person who had always been there.

But by the time she'd fallen, it was already too late.

Because it had never been real.

And now, watching him, she knew the truth.

Mateo had always been willing to risk everything for love.

Just not for her.

It had always been Helen.

***

Mateo's injuries were bad. Weeks in the hospital bed.

Once upon a time, Yara would've lost it over even a scratch on him. Now? She didn't even think about visiting.

Not when Kevin showed up saying Mateo wanted to see her.

She just ignored it and went on with her life.

Then, late one night, she woke up feeling... off. Heavy.

And that's when she realized—someone was holding her.

Mateo.

Still in a hospital gown, head bandaged, body barely stitched back together. Yet here he was, clinging to her like he had any right to. Silent. Desperate.

She struggled against him, shoving him off. "How did you get back here?"

"I missed you," he murmured, head still buried against her neck. Then softer, like he was the one hurting—"Did you not get Kevin's messages? You never visited. Not once.

"Is it because I saved Helen?

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you. But she's your sister, Yara. It was an emergency—I had to save her. But I swear... I've only ever loved you.

"I was just looking out for Helen like a brother. That's all. There's nothing else.

"Please, Yara... don't be mad at me anymore."

He sounded so sincere, so convincing that if Yara didn't know the truth...

She might've believed him.

But she knew better.

Mateo wasn't here because he cared—he was scared. Scared she'd see through him. Scared it would ruin the wedding. Scared that if she walked, Helen wouldn't get what she wanted.

Honestly? He didn't need to keep up this act.

Didn't need to worry.

None of this would matter soon.

Very soon, these people would be nothing to her.

She'd be gone. A fresh start.

A life filled with love—even if it was fabricated.

Better than the hollow kind she'd known before.

Because if none of it was ever real... then why should it matter what was?