Chapter 1 - My wife can wait
The first thing I remembered after the crash was Caleb’s voice.
Not asking whether I could breathe.
Not asking whether our baby plans, our marriage, or the woman he had slept beside for three years were about to disappear beneath fluorescent hospital lights.
He was talking about Khloe.
“Save Khloe first.”
A nurse pressed both hands against the wound near my hip while Dr. Evans shoved a clipboard toward my husband.
“Mr. Blackwood, your wife has suspected internal bleeding and an open fracture. We need immediate consent.”
Three feet away, Khloe Reed sat upright in another trauma bay with a bandage near her temple.
Her monitors were stable.
Mine were screaming.
Caleb looked at her.
“My wife can wait.”
The nurse actually stopped moving for half a second.
Dr. Evans stared at him.
“Miss Reed is stable.”
“She has a heart condition.”
“She has bruising and a mild concussion. Lucia may be bleeding internally.”
“I said prioritize Khloe.”
Behind the curtain, Khloe reached for him.
“Caleb…”
He crossed to her immediately.
I watched my husband take another woman’s hand while my blood soaked through the sheets.
“Don’t worry about anyone else,” he whispered to her. “I’m here.”
Something inside me became strangely quiet.
Dr. Evans moved beside me.
“Miss Sinclair, can you sign for yourself?”
Miss Sinclair.
My maiden name.
I hadn’t heard a doctor call me that since before my wedding.
For some reason, it sounded like freedom.
“Pen.”
The nurse braced the clipboard against my gurney.
My right hand wouldn’t move properly, so I used my left.
The pen slipped.
Once.
Twice.
Then I wrote:
Lucia Sinclair.
The signature was crooked and smeared.
But it belonged to me.
“Doctor,” I whispered.
Dr. Evans leaned closer.
“Save me.”
“We will.”
As they began wheeling me away, Caleb finally turned.
“Lucia.”
I looked at him.
“Don’t make this a competition.”
I almost laughed.
Instead, I removed my wedding ring.
Pain shot through my swollen hand as the diamond slipped free.
I dropped it onto the clipboard.
Caleb’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
The surgery doors opened.
“You chose her,” I whispered. “Now I choose myself.”
Then the doors closed between us.
The last thing I saw was Caleb staring at my ring.
The last thing I heard before anesthesia swallowed me was Dr. Evans speaking sharply to a nurse.
“Document exactly what the husband said.”
May you like
I thought it was merely medical procedure.
I had no idea that sentence was about to become the first line in a sealed hospital report Caleb’s family would eventually offer millions to make disappear.
