The Fiancé Who Left Her To Die

The Fiancé Who Left Her To Die

MAINUMBY

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The first sign I was going to die wasn't the blizzard. It wasn't the bone-deep cold. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my life's work-our only guarantee of survival-to another woman. "Kelsi was freezing," he said, as if I were being unreasonable. "You're the expert, you can handle it." He then took my satellite phone, shoved me into a hastily dug snow pit, and left me to die. His new girlfriend, Kelsi, appeared, wrapped snugly in my shimmering smart blanket. She smiled as she used my own ice axe to slash my suit, my last layer of protection against the storm. "Stop being so dramatic," he told me, his voice full of contempt as I lay there freezing to death. They thought they had taken everything. They thought they had won. But they didn't know about the secret emergency beacon I had stitched into my sleeve. And with my last ounce of strength, I activated it.

Chapter 1

The first sign I was going to die wasn't the blizzard. It wasn't the bone-deep cold. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my life's work-our only guarantee of survival-to another woman.

"Kelsi was freezing," he said, as if I were being unreasonable. "You're the expert, you can handle it."

He then took my satellite phone, shoved me into a hastily dug snow pit, and left me to die.

His new girlfriend, Kelsi, appeared, wrapped snugly in my shimmering smart blanket. She smiled as she used my own ice axe to slash my suit, my last layer of protection against the storm.

"Stop being so dramatic," he told me, his voice full of contempt as I lay there freezing to death.

They thought they had taken everything. They thought they had won.

But they didn't know about the secret emergency beacon I had stitched into my sleeve. And with my last ounce of strength, I activated it.

Chapter 1

The first sign that I was going to die wasn't the blizzard that had descended on us with the fury of a vengeful god. It wasn't even the searing, bone-deep cold that had begun to leech the life from my limbs. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my proprietary prototype-my life's work, our only guarantee of survival-to another woman.

The wind on Denali' s upper slope was a physical entity, a solid wall of ice and noise that slammed into our small expedition tent, threatening to rip it from its anchors. Inside, the air was only marginally warmer than the negative forty degrees Fahrenheit outside. My teeth chattered so violently I thought they might crack.

"Bryan," I managed, my voice a thin, reedy thing against the storm's roar. "I need the blanket. My core temperature is dropping."

I was the lead software engineer for OmniClimb, the brains behind the tech we were field-testing. I knew the numbers. I knew the precise point at which shivering stops and the body begins to shut down. I was dangerously close.

I fumbled with the zipper of my gear pack, my fingers clumsy and disobedient, like frozen sticks of wood. The space where my prototype "smart blanket" should have been was empty. Panic, cold and sharp, lanced through the fog of hypothermia.

The blanket was my masterpiece. Woven with micro-filaments that generated and regulated heat based on biometric feedback, it could sustain a human in arctic conditions for seventy-two hours. It was one-of-a-kind. It was my safety net.

And it was gone.

"Where is it?" I looked up at Bryan, my fiancé, the project manager for this very trip. His handsome face, usually so open and easy to read, was a shuttered mask.

He wouldn't meet my eyes. He was fussing with the straps on a different pack, his movements jerky. "What are you talking about?"

"The blanket, Bryan. The prototype. It's not in my pack."

A flicker of something-guilt? annoyance?-crossed his face before he smoothed it over. "Oh. That. I gave it to Kelsi."

The words didn't compute. It was like he was speaking a foreign language. "You what?"

"Kelsi was freezing," he said, his tone defensive, as if I were the one being unreasonable. "She was crying, Alex. Really struggling. You're the expert, you can handle a little cold."

Kelsi Howe. The marketing intern who had somehow wangled her way onto this high-stakes expedition. The same intern who had spent the entire trip batting her eyelashes at Bryan, playing the fragile damsel in distress while I focused on the data, on the mission.

"Bryan," I said, trying to keep my voice level, trying to make him understand the clinical reality of our situation. "This isn't 'a little cold.' This is a Category Four blizzard at 17,000 feet. My gear is rated for these conditions with the active heating element of the smart blanket. Hers is standard issue. She should have never been up here in the first place."

"Don't be so dramatic," he snapped, his voice sharp. The accusation, so familiar, stung more than the cold. He always called me dramatic when I stated facts he didn't like. "You're always so arrogant about your skills, Alex. You think you're invincible on the mountain."

"This isn't about arrogance! It's about thermodynamics! I will die without it, Bryan. Do you understand that? My body is shutting down." I tried to push myself up, but a wave of dizziness sent me reeling back against the nylon wall of the tent. My vision was starting to tunnel.

"She needed it more," he insisted, his jaw set stubbornly. "We have to function as a team. You're always talking about the team, but when it comes down to it, you only think about yourself and your precious project."

"This project is supposed to save our lives!" My voice cracked with a desperation I hated. "That's its only purpose!"

"My sister was right about you," he muttered, almost to himself. "Dottie always said you were selfish. That you'd always put your career before me, before family."

Dottie Acosta. His materialistic older sister who ran the logistics company that was a key, and often problematic, supplier for OmniClimb. She had never liked me, viewing me as a rival to her brother's success rather than a partner.

The mention of her name was like a bucket of ice water. The last vestiges of warmth I felt, the foolish hope that this was all a terrible misunderstanding, vanished. This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. This was a narrative they had built against me, a resentment that had been festering for months, maybe years.

"This engagement is over," I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. It was a pathetic, feeble declaration in the face of my own mortality, but it was the only weapon I had left.

With a surge of adrenaline-fueled clarity, I reached for the small, hard-cased satellite phone clipped to my belt. My fingers were nearly useless, but I managed to flip open the cover. My thumb hovered over the emergency beacon button.

Before I could press it, Bryan' s hand clamped down on my wrist like a vice. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The force of his grip sent a jolt of pain up my arm. He was stronger than me, bigger. In the cramped space, I was at a complete disadvantage.

"I'm calling for rescue, Bryan. Before I freeze to death," I gasped, struggling against him.

"You'll do no such thing!" he hissed, his face inches from mine. His charisma was gone, replaced by an ugly, panicked fury. "Activating a beacon aborts the entire mission! Do you know how much this will cost the company? How it will make me look? After all my work getting this project off the ground?"

He wrenched the phone from my grasp.

"You'll ruin everything!" he snarled, holding the device like a weapon. "I'll smash it. I swear to God, Alex, I will smash it to pieces before I let you sabotage my career."

My strength was failing. The fight was draining the last of my energy reserves. My limbs felt heavy, detached. A blackness crept in at the edges of my vision.

Just then, the tent flap unzipped. A gust of wind and snow blasted inside, and with it, Kelsi Howe.

She was wrapped in the shimmering, silver fabric of my smart blanket. A soft, blue light pulsed from the integrated control panel on her chest, a beacon of warmth in the frozen twilight. She looked comfortable, almost cozy.

"Bryan, honey, is everything okay?" she asked, her voice a saccharine-sweet coo. She peeked around his shoulder and saw me, slumped and shivering on the floor. "Oh, Alex. You look terrible."

She deliberately held up her arm, showing off the advanced chemical heat pack-my advanced heat pack-she was clutching in her gloved hand. It was a proprietary gel, another one of my designs, capable of generating intense heat for twelve hours. He' d given her those, too. All of them.

"Bryan was just so sweet," Kelsi continued, her eyes glittering with a malice that was far more chilling than the storm. "He was worried sick about me. I told him you'd be fine. You're so strong, after all."

The sheer, unadulterated venom in her smile sent a wave of white-hot rage through me. It was a brief, useless flare against the encroaching cold. My mind was a maelstrom of confusion and betrayal.

"Let her rest, Kelsi," Bryan said, his voice softening as he turned to her. He put a protective arm around her shoulder. "She's just being a little dramatic. It's just a blanket, for God's sake. Not like it's the difference between life and death."

He looked down at me, his expression one of cold dismissal. He saw my tattered gear pack, the one I had desperately searched. He saw my standard-issue backup heat packs were also gone. He knew. He knew he had taken everything.

"You're an experienced mountaineer, Alex," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "You'll be fine once you get moving a bit. Stop being so fragile."

I was dying. He was leaving me here to die. The realization wasn't a thought, it was a certainty that settled deep in my frozen bones.

"You're... leaving me?" I stammered, the words barely audible.

"We're going to the main tent to coordinate with the rest of the team," he said dismissively. "You' re an expert. Dig a snow cave or something if you're that cold. Stop making a scene."

Kelsi piped up, her voice laced with false concern. "Is there anything we can do, Alex? You just look so... pale."

With a final, desperate surge of strength, I lunged for the blanket, for my life. My fingers brushed against the fabric.

"Get off!" Bryan shoved me, hard. Not a nudge, but a violent, two-handed push.

My head snapped back and hit the frozen ground with a sickening thud. Stars exploded behind my eyes, mingling with the encroaching darkness.

"Bryan!" Kelsi cried out, but it was a performance. I could hear the theatrical gasp, the feigned shock. "She tried to attack me!"

"Alex, what is wrong with you?" Bryan roared, standing over me, his face contorted with rage. "She's an intern! You're the lead engineer! Have some goddamn professionalism!"

I couldn't answer. The world was tilting, spinning away from me. The rage, the betrayal, the freezing cold-it was all collapsing into a single point of unbearable pain.

Through the blizzard's howl, I heard Bryan's voice, distant and muffled, as if from the end of a long tunnel. "I'm done. I'm so done with this jealousy and drama."

The last thing I saw before the darkness consumed me was Kelsi's face, her fake tears catching the blue light of my blanket as she smiled down at me. It was a smile of pure triumph.

Then, a tearing sound. A sharp, metallic rip right beside my ear. It was the sound of an ice axe puncturing GORE-TEX. It was the sound of my last layer of protection being destroyed.

"Bryan, she's gone crazy!" Kelsi shrieked. "She's destroying her own suit!"

It was the last lie I heard before the world went black.

---

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