Sorry Daddy, I'm Not Spare Parts for Her! - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

"Okay."
"If Brother Nathan doesn't mind, I'd be happy to go out with him."
Little did I know—those eight words sent Ethan's jealousy into overdrive.
He shouldn't have cared. Even if he was jealous, it should've been over Luna. Not me. Never me.
But this time, logic lost to raw emotion.
"I'm your guardian. You don't date anyone without my permission."
Then, in front of everyone, he scooped me up and carried me straight to his car.
Funny—just months ago, he couldn't stand being within three feet of me.
Ethan didn't give me a chance to argue. He floored it all the way to the airport.
The car was dead silent. So silent, I could hear his thoughts again.
"Ava Foster, from now on, you don't leave my sight."
"Alive, you're mine. Dead, you're still mine."
"Until Luna's cured, you're not going anywhere."
So that's how it was.
Sometimes, I wish I could crack open Ethan's chest and see if there was ever even a sliver of love for me.
But what would it change? In his eyes, I'd never measure up to Luna.
We hadn't been driving long when a red truck swerved into our lane—and accelerated straight toward Ethan's Maybach.
At the last second, my body moved on its own. I threw myself in front of him, taking the full impact.
In that split second of white noise, I saw my old self—weak, naive, hopelessly in love.
She whispered: "Ava, let this be the last stupid thing you do for him. From now on, you walk alone."
Sirens wailed. Someone was screaming my name.
Was it Ethan?
Didn't matter anymore.
When I woke up, sterile white light burned my eyes. The scent of jasmine and antiseptic clung to the air.
Blinking through the haze, I found Ethan slumped in the chair beside me—eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched.
Was he… worried?
"Ethan Foster," I croaked. "If I died, would you even care?"
A beat of silence. His voice came out rough. "Don't overthink it. Just rest."
He handed me water, but his thoughts betrayed him:
"Ava, I don't have an answer for you. But Luna's running out of time."
"After the bone marrow transplant, I'll make sure you forget all of this."
"I can give you anything—except love. That debt belongs to Luna. Her family fell apart because of me. I can't abandon her."
I let the glass sit untouched.
Then his phone rang.
"Mr. Foster—Luna's gone!"
Ethan's gaze flicked to me—just once—before he bolted, not even grabbing his coat.
The glass on the nightstand wobbled, then shattered on the floor.
In the spilled water's reflection, a stranger appeared.
Luna.
Pale. Delicate. Beautiful in a haunting, fragile way.
She drifted to the window, pushing it open. "So you're the one Ethan treasures?"
I shook my head. "He'd burn the world for you. You shouldn't be here—he'll panic when he finds you gone."
I'd imagined our first meeting a thousand times. Never like this—calm, almost peaceful.
Luna smiled sadly. "He never told me about you. And I've done… terrible things because of it."
"But even your bone marrow won't save me. Ethan's trapped by his guilt. He thinks he owes me."
"I'm tired, Ava. Tired of living. Tired of hurting people."
Her fingers brushed the windowsill. "This is our first hello… and our goodbye."
Then—without hesitation—she stepped into the open air.