Why does it hurt so much…?
After seven years of marriage, and when faced with life and death, Colin chose his first love.
Eloise, is it the knife in your stomach that hurts more, or the gaping wound in your heart?
In a haze, I heard a voice calling me. Slowly, I opened my eyes and realized I was in the emergency room.
"Ms. Cromwell," a familiar voice said softly—it was the young nurse from before, looking downcast.
"Can you contact any other family members?" she asked, her voice low and hesitant. "We've tried calling your husband, but he hasn’t answered. The surgery requires a family member’s signature..."
A sharp pain shot through my chest, but not from my injuries. Colin was probably too busy fussing over Siena to even think of me right now. Why would he bother answering?
"I’ll sign it myself," I murmured, forcing the words out. My hand trembled as I scribbled my name on the paper. Just as I thought I might pass out from the pain, I overheard the nurses talking nearby.
"It’s so unfair, isn’t it? That pregnant woman with the last name West—her husband treats her like a queen," one said in disbelief.
"And here this poor woman is, barely clinging to life, and we can’t even find her family."