But five years of coaxing him hadn't bought a single last glance at my child.
Which mattered more was no longer a question. The verdict was already in.
So why keep playing the fool, debasing myself to beg for some scrap of love too small to matter?
Let the cold wind clear my head. Let it knock the lovesickness out of me.
After Dr. Lawrence left, I dialed a number.
"Dad. Chester's invitation to the international medical forum—cancel it."
Then I called a lawyer to draw up the divorce papers.
When I went to the nurses' station to borrow the printer, I heard a young one pointing at a video, squealing.
"God, Dr. Simmons is so handsome when he smiles! My heart just melted!"
Another nurse scoffed.
"You could rip your heart out and it wouldn't matter. He doesn't smile at his own wife. That smile's only for the intern and her mother."
"His wife hemorrhaged, they're trying to save her, and you know what he said?"
"What?"
"See for yourself."
I took a couple of steps closer.
Close enough to finally see the video clearly.
One look, and the blood in my veins turned to ice.
"There are doctors in the ER, aren't there? What do you need me for? She got rid of the baby herself. A little suffering will teach her a lesson."
In the video, Chester gave a long look toward the ER, then turned and walked into Lois Delgado's room.
A nurse asked him to sign for my emergency treatment. He refused without a flicker of feeling.
"She can sign it herself when she wakes up. I'll cover the bill, but keep her away from me."
The footage cut to him sitting at the bedside, peeling fruit for Claire and her mother.
Then carefully feeding the cut pieces to Lois.
I couldn't help thinking of last year, when I'd broken my right arm and couldn't manage on my own. I'd leaned into him, playful, asking him to feed me, to peel my fruit.
He'd said:
"My hands are for surgery, not for spoon-feeding you and peeling fruit."
The bleakness of it swallowed me whole, drained every ounce of strength from my body.
I swayed, stumbled, and the sound startled the young nurses.
They turned, saw the white of my face, and scrambled to lock their phones.
"Aria, are you all right? We're sorry, we shouldn't have been gossiping about you—"
I gave a bitter little laugh.
"You didn't do anything wrong. There's nothing to apologize for."
The one who owed me an apology was Chester.
Watching me print the divorce agreement, the nurses tried to talk me out of it.
"Don't! If you actually divorce him, won't that just hand the intern exactly what she wants? We all know she's been deliberately throwing herself at Dr. Simmons, but he's never once given her the time of day—"
Is that so?
If he truly hadn't, why treat another woman's mother better than he ever treated me?
I picked up the pen, signed my name stroke by careful stroke, and went to cardiothoracic surgery to find Chester.
But he wasn't there.
A doctor from his department wouldn't quite meet my eyes.
"Dr. Simmons took some personal time off. Maybe come back tomorrow?"
On the way back to my room, I overheard two patients griping.
"What's the deal with Dr. Simmons? My dad finally gets bumped up for surgery, and now the man takes the day off!"
"Tell me about it. Rotten luck. My nephew's surgery was supposed to be today too, and it got pushed."
I don't remember how I made it back to my room.
By the time I came to, I'd already pulled up Claire Delgado's social media.
Of course. Chester had taken half a day off to be with her.
In one of the photos she'd posted, the hand holding the cake—I'd know it anywhere.
Five years together, and Chester had never once taken a single day off for me.
He held his work above every holiday, every anniversary we had.
And now, for Claire Delgado's birthday, he hadn't just taken time off. He'd pushed back two surgeries.
The last thread of feeling in my heart dissolved completely.
Early the next morning, after finishing the discharge paperwork, I went to his office to leave the divorce agreement.
Chester was already storming out the door when I arrived.
The second he saw me his eyes went bloodshot, and he grabbed me by the collar.
"Aria, fine, fight with me all you want. But why go after Claire's mother?"
"I finally pulled off her surgery, and you, over some dead baby, want her dead?"
"I didn't!" The denial came out on instinct.
He didn't believe me. He dragged me into the hospital room by force.
"Get down on your knees. Apologize to Claire's mother properly. Beg her to forgive you!"
I wouldn't kneel. I dug in and demanded the security footage to clear my name.
Chester clenched his jaw and told the monitoring room to pull it up.
But Claire was already holding out her phone, eyes brimming with tears.
"I know I was wrong about the report, big sister. But if you're angry, take it out on me. Why would you hurt my mom?"
Chester glanced at the video, then asked me through gritted teeth.
"The evidence is right here. Are you still going to lie your way out of it?"
I stared at the figure in the footage, suited up and masked, sneaking into the room to swap out the medication, and something in my chest twisted like a blade.
Five years sharing the same bed, and Chester couldn't recognize the shape of his own wife.
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
But the tears were already falling, fast and out of my control.
They landed on the back of his hand. His whole body stiffened, yet his face stayed dark.
"So now you're scared? Where was the fear when you were hurting someone?"
"If I hadn't caught it in time, you'd be a murderer right now!"
I wiped my eyes and pulled out my phone.
"Then call the police. Let them investigate!"
He snatched the phone away and smashed it on the floor.
"Aria, can you stop being so ungrateful?"
"You keep making a scene, do you think I'll have any standing left at this hospital?"
"All you have to do is admit you were wrong to Claire's mother and this is over. Otherwise I'll seriously reconsider our relationship!"
His gaze slid to the divorce agreement in my hand. He didn't need to say the rest.
All at once, the tension drained out of me.
"I did nothing wrong!"
"Sign it!"
He looked at the stubborn lift of my chin, the way I was fighting to keep the tears from spilling, and an unease he couldn't name rose in him.
Just as he picked up the pen and set it back down, Claire suddenly grabbed the fruit knife off the table and drove it hard into her own stomach.
"Big sister, everything is my fault, all of it!"
"I cost you your child. I'll pay you back with my life! Just stop torturing my mom!"
"No!"
Chester shoved me away and lunged forward, closing his hand around the knife already half-buried in her.
He begged Claire, his voice breaking.
"Claire, don't be a fool! She aborted her own child. What does that have to do with you? Don't punish yourself for someone else's mistake!"
I dropped to the floor, my head hitting the fire hydrant, and something warm pulsed out against my scalp.
I lifted my head to call for help, but not a single word would come.
I only saw Chester clamp his most precious right hand around that blade, holding it back from sinking deeper into Claire.
Then he used that blood-soaked hand to sign the divorce agreement.
"You've made this big enough. Happy now?"
The moment it was done, he scooped me up and carried me straight toward the emergency room.
He never noticed that I had gone into shock from blood loss.
Behind me, Claire's mother rose from the hospital bed and slammed her foot into my stomach.
"Fighting my daughter for a man, you really are begging to die!"
In the trauma room again, dragged back through death's door, I didn't hesitate to dial a number.
"Hey. I lost. A bet's a bet. Is the deal still good?"
"Where are you? I'm coming to get you."
Half an hour later, I left from the hospital rooftop by helicopter.
By the time Chester finished closing Claire's wound and calming her down, it was deep into the night.
He went to her ward and was told she had already checked out and gone.
The unease in his chest swelled, and he pulled out his phone and called her.
No one answered.
Instead, one of the young nurses brought him a document envelope.
"Aria asked us to give this to you."
Chester frowned as he took it and tore it open.
One glance, and his whole body went rigid, the color draining from his face.
