He Chose Her, I Chose Me
990 Views · Ongoing · Agatha Christie
Ryan Aldridge had one rule: he showed up for whoever needed him most.
The problem was, it was never me.
Throat swelling shut in the ER? He was unclogging Sloane Harrington's drain. Anniversary dinner? He left between courses because Sloane was "spiraling."
I forgave it every time. I was the cool girl. The understanding fiancée.
Then my studio caught fire, and a beam came down on my chest.
I lay there—bleeding, pinned, choking on smoke—and watched Ryan vault over me to carry out a woman with a sprained ankle.
"Jocelyn, come on. You can handle this. Look at her—she's shaking."
Something in me went still. Not broken. Finished.
I twisted off the ring with blood-slick fingers and let it disappear into the ash.
Then I disappeared too.
The problem was, it was never me.
Throat swelling shut in the ER? He was unclogging Sloane Harrington's drain. Anniversary dinner? He left between courses because Sloane was "spiraling."
I forgave it every time. I was the cool girl. The understanding fiancée.
Then my studio caught fire, and a beam came down on my chest.
I lay there—bleeding, pinned, choking on smoke—and watched Ryan vault over me to carry out a woman with a sprained ankle.
"Jocelyn, come on. You can handle this. Look at her—she's shaking."
Something in me went still. Not broken. Finished.
I twisted off the ring with blood-slick fingers and let it disappear into the ash.
Then I disappeared too.















































