Siena had only suffered a minor scratch, yet she clung to Colin, melodramatically complaining about stomach pains.
Colin’s eyes were full of concern as he reassured her.
“We need to check Siena first,” he told the doctors firmly. Then he glanced at me and intoned coldly, “If anything happens to her, I’ll take full responsibility. I’m her husband.”
The obstetricians hesitated, looking between me, lying in a pool of blood, and Siena. But Colin’s words were enough. After all, with Colin as the family member taking responsibility, it didn’t matter who they saved.
They hurried to Siena’s side, leaving me behind. It didn’t matter who was truly more injured—Colin had made his decision.
I lay there, slipping in and out of consciousness, watching as Colin tenderly held Siena. His concern for her cut deeper than any wound on my body.
Whispers from the doctors and nurses floated around me, stabbing straight into my heart.
“I can’t believe it. His wife is seriously injured, and he’s fussing over another woman?”
“And she’s not even hurt! It’s just a scratch!”
“Poor thing… What kind of husband ignores his wife like that?”