Stand-In Heiress's Last Sunflower Blooms in Graveyards - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading Stand-In Heiress's Last Sunflower Blooms in Graveyards, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of Stand-In Heiress's Last Sunflower Blooms in Graveyards.
I took a shaky breath and tried to sound casual: "Deal."
But my voice cracked as I added: "Timothy, could you just... drop the case for me? That way I don't have to go back to the station and we won't have to see each other again."
The wind was absolutely vicious. My face felt like it was being sliced with razor blades.
Timothy's cold eyes swept over me, really looking at me for the first time. I watched something flicker across his face as he took in how skeletal I'd become—like a strong breeze could snap me in half.
His expression went even icier: "Not my job. Handle it yourself."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
"Okay, fine. I'll do it myself. Just... what days are you off? So I can avoid you?"
The silence between us felt suffocating.
The December wind howled through the empty street. Above us, the sky was black and merciless.
Then Timothy said something that came out of left field:
"You know what, Skylar? I used to be ashamed of where I came from. Trailer park, deadbeat dad, all that white trash bullshit."
I stared at him, completely lost: "What are you talking about?"
A bitter laugh escaped his throat: "Turns out the most fucked up thing about my life was ever knowing you."
He turned and walked away, leaving me standing there like I'd been slapped.
Each word felt like a blade twisting in my chest. Sharp, then numb, then just... empty.
I stood frozen on that sidewalk, my eyes burning with tears I absolutely refused to shed.
I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I wouldn't break down.
I'd already destroyed him once five years ago. Now we were even.
Inside my shitty apartment, I cranked the shower as hot as I could stand and stayed under the scalding water until the tank ran cold.
My phone lit up with a payment notification from my boss at the bar—way more than my usual take.
A text followed: *"Skylar, the extra cash is for what my wife put you through. She's going through menopause and she's losing her shit. I'm really sorry."*
I stared at the numbers on my screen, then at the empty pill bottle on my nightstand.
I needed that money more than my pride.
*"Thanks, Mike."*
God, I hated myself for taking it. But my medication was running out, and the alternative was dying faster.
**Next Morning - Dr. Cullen's Office**
"Skylar, I can't keep prescribing outpatient meds. You need to be admitted right now, or..."
The CT scan looked like someone had splattered ink across my insides.
I couldn't read the medical jargon, but Dr. Cullen's face told me everything I needed to know.
Weirdly, I felt completely numb. I even smiled.
"If I check in, will I actually get better?"
The question sounded so pathetic hanging in the air. Suddenly, the full weight of everything crashed down on me.
My birth father had died of the exact same cancer. Diagnosis to funeral in eight months.
I'd somehow clawed my way through five years.
My throat closed up, but I kept that fake smile plastered on my face.
"Dr. Cullen, we've both been fighting this thing for five years. You've done everything you can, and so have I. But..."
"I'm not dying in a hospital bed hooked up to machines. We both know that's all admission means at this point."
"At least out here, maybe something unexpected could happen."
I took the elevator down to pick up whatever pain meds I could still get.
Through the lobby's floor-to-ceiling windows, I spotted a familiar figure that made my blood turn to ice.
Even at this distance, even just catching his profile, I knew it was Timothy.
Some people get burned so deep into your soul that recognizing them becomes muscle memory.
He was here with Katherine for their pre-wedding health screening.
They were practically floating, hands intertwined, faces bright with excitement as they headed toward the clinic.
I caught myself smiling, even though it felt like swallowing glass.
Same day, same building.
I was getting my death sentence confirmed while he was checking off items on his wedding to-do list.
Fucking poetic, right?
I pulled my baseball cap down low and tried to slip past them unnoticed.
But Timothy's head turned, like he had some sixth sense.
Katherine followed his gaze, scanning the crowd.
"See someone you know?"
Timothy stared right through me for what felt like forever, then shook his head: "Nah."
He pulled Katherine closer and gave her that soft smile that used to be mine: "Come on, babe."
In that massive hospital lobby, we became two ships passing in the night.
I headed toward the pharmacy alone.
He walked toward his future, Katherine's hand safe in his.
Neither of us looked back.
I grabbed my measly prescription and bolted for the exit.
In the Uber, when the driver asked for my destination, all I could see was Timothy's face from last night—pure disgust mixed with something that looked like hatred.
"Police station," I said finally.
As we pulled away from the hospital, I watched it shrink in the side mirror until it disappeared completely.
Time to tie up the last loose end.
But my voice cracked as I added: "Timothy, could you just... drop the case for me? That way I don't have to go back to the station and we won't have to see each other again."
The wind was absolutely vicious. My face felt like it was being sliced with razor blades.
Timothy's cold eyes swept over me, really looking at me for the first time. I watched something flicker across his face as he took in how skeletal I'd become—like a strong breeze could snap me in half.
His expression went even icier: "Not my job. Handle it yourself."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
"Okay, fine. I'll do it myself. Just... what days are you off? So I can avoid you?"
The silence between us felt suffocating.
The December wind howled through the empty street. Above us, the sky was black and merciless.
Then Timothy said something that came out of left field:
"You know what, Skylar? I used to be ashamed of where I came from. Trailer park, deadbeat dad, all that white trash bullshit."
I stared at him, completely lost: "What are you talking about?"
A bitter laugh escaped his throat: "Turns out the most fucked up thing about my life was ever knowing you."
He turned and walked away, leaving me standing there like I'd been slapped.
Each word felt like a blade twisting in my chest. Sharp, then numb, then just... empty.
I stood frozen on that sidewalk, my eyes burning with tears I absolutely refused to shed.
I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I wouldn't break down.
I'd already destroyed him once five years ago. Now we were even.
Inside my shitty apartment, I cranked the shower as hot as I could stand and stayed under the scalding water until the tank ran cold.
My phone lit up with a payment notification from my boss at the bar—way more than my usual take.
A text followed: *"Skylar, the extra cash is for what my wife put you through. She's going through menopause and she's losing her shit. I'm really sorry."*
I stared at the numbers on my screen, then at the empty pill bottle on my nightstand.
I needed that money more than my pride.
*"Thanks, Mike."*
God, I hated myself for taking it. But my medication was running out, and the alternative was dying faster.
**Next Morning - Dr. Cullen's Office**
"Skylar, I can't keep prescribing outpatient meds. You need to be admitted right now, or..."
The CT scan looked like someone had splattered ink across my insides.
I couldn't read the medical jargon, but Dr. Cullen's face told me everything I needed to know.
Weirdly, I felt completely numb. I even smiled.
"If I check in, will I actually get better?"
The question sounded so pathetic hanging in the air. Suddenly, the full weight of everything crashed down on me.
My birth father had died of the exact same cancer. Diagnosis to funeral in eight months.
I'd somehow clawed my way through five years.
My throat closed up, but I kept that fake smile plastered on my face.
"Dr. Cullen, we've both been fighting this thing for five years. You've done everything you can, and so have I. But..."
"I'm not dying in a hospital bed hooked up to machines. We both know that's all admission means at this point."
"At least out here, maybe something unexpected could happen."
I took the elevator down to pick up whatever pain meds I could still get.
Through the lobby's floor-to-ceiling windows, I spotted a familiar figure that made my blood turn to ice.
Even at this distance, even just catching his profile, I knew it was Timothy.
Some people get burned so deep into your soul that recognizing them becomes muscle memory.
He was here with Katherine for their pre-wedding health screening.
They were practically floating, hands intertwined, faces bright with excitement as they headed toward the clinic.
I caught myself smiling, even though it felt like swallowing glass.
Same day, same building.
I was getting my death sentence confirmed while he was checking off items on his wedding to-do list.
Fucking poetic, right?
I pulled my baseball cap down low and tried to slip past them unnoticed.
But Timothy's head turned, like he had some sixth sense.
Katherine followed his gaze, scanning the crowd.
"See someone you know?"
Timothy stared right through me for what felt like forever, then shook his head: "Nah."
He pulled Katherine closer and gave her that soft smile that used to be mine: "Come on, babe."
In that massive hospital lobby, we became two ships passing in the night.
I headed toward the pharmacy alone.
He walked toward his future, Katherine's hand safe in his.
Neither of us looked back.
I grabbed my measly prescription and bolted for the exit.
In the Uber, when the driver asked for my destination, all I could see was Timothy's face from last night—pure disgust mixed with something that looked like hatred.
"Police station," I said finally.
As we pulled away from the hospital, I watched it shrink in the side mirror until it disappeared completely.
Time to tie up the last loose end.
End of Stand-In Heiress's Last Sunflower Blooms in Graveyards Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to Stand-In Heiress's Last Sunflower Blooms in Graveyards book page.