Once A Neglected Wife, Now His Greatest Regret

Chapter 3: He Never Came Back

Pain, that was all I felt. It didn’t go away when I winced or moved. This pain wrapped itself around every inch of my body until even breathing was hard.

A soft groan escaped my lips as I slowly opened my eyes. Everything looked blurry, white ceiling, bright lights, the steady beeping of machines somewhere beside me. For a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was. Then it all came rushing back. The hospital. The surgery. Damian.

I tried to sit up. The moment I moved, a sharp pain shot through my lower back, forcing me to fall against the pillow with a gasp. A nurse hurried over immediately. “Mrs. Ashford, please don’t move.”

“What…” My throat felt like sandpaper. “What happened?”

She adjusted the blanket over me before checking one of the monitors. “You gave us quite a scare.”

I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“There were complications during surgery.”

My fingers tightened around the blanket. “What kind of complications?”

She hesitated just long enough for my heart to begin racing. “You lost a significant amount of blood.” I stared at her. “Your blood pressure dropped dramatically during the operation. The surgeons managed to stabilize you, but there was a period where…” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “There was a period where they weren’t sure you were going to make it.”

My mind went completely blank. I almost died. The doctor had warned me there were risks. I’d heard every word he said. But somehow, I’d convinced myself bad things only happened to other people.

Silence filled the room. Then the question slipped out before I could stop it. “Has my husband been here?”

Something flickered across her face. She glanced toward the door before looking back at me. “He knows your surgery is over.”

Hope fluttered inside my chest. “So…” I smiled weakly. “Did he leave already?”

The nurse didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she gently adjusted my IV. “Mrs. Ashford…” My smile slowly disappeared. “He came to the hospital.” I waited. “He visited Miss Blake first.”

The hope inside me shrank a little. “She had just woken up,” I whispered, trying to make excuses for him. “He probably wanted to make sure she was alright.”

The nurse nodded politely. Maybe she believed me. Maybe she didn’t. I certainly didn’t. Still, I clung to the thought anyway. “He’ll come,” I told myself more than her. “He just hasn’t had the chance yet.”

She squeezed my hand gently before leaving the room. I stared at the closed door for what felt like hours. Every time footsteps echoed down the hallway, my heart skipped. Every time someone walked past without entering, it sank again. By evening, I’d memorized the pattern of the ceiling tiles. By midnight, I’d started counting the beeps from the heart monitor just to distract myself.

The next morning, another nurse came in to check my temperature. I asked the same question. “Has Damian come?”

She looked at the chart in her hands. “Mr. Ashford was here early this morning.”

Relief rushed through me. “He came?”

She nodded. “He was in Miss Blake’s room.”

My smile disappeared. “Oh.” That single word seemed to drain every bit of energy I had left. “He stayed with her most of the morning.”

“I see.” I looked away before she noticed the tears gathering in my eyes. “He’ll come later.” The words sounded strangely hollow. She didn’t respond. Sometimes silence was kinder than false reassurance.

The second day passed exactly like the first, pain medication, doctors, nurses, questions. No Damian.

On the third morning, I woke to the sound of laughter drifting through the hallway. A nurse entered carrying fresh medication. I asked before she even reached my bed. “My husband?”

She hesitated. Then she answered honestly. “Miss Blake was discharged yesterday.”

Confusion washed over me. “Discharged?”

“He left with Miss Blake.”

I felt my heart crack open. “He went home.”

The nurse nodded slowly. “I believe so.”

I turned my face toward the window. Outside, the city continued exactly as it always had. Cars moved through traffic. People hurried along the sidewalks. Life didn’t stop simply because someone’s heart did.

A quiet knock interrupted my thoughts. The door opened and Damian walked in. For one glorious, foolish second, every bit of hurt disappeared. He came back. I knew he would. I struggled to sit up despite the pain. “You came.” A tiny smile found its way onto my face. “I thought…” I swallowed. “I thought maybe you were taking me home.”

He remained standing near the door. He didn’t come closer. Didn’t ask how I felt. He didn’t even notice the bruises covering my arms from countless needles. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I…” The answer caught in my throat. How was I feeling? I nearly died. Everything hurt. My husband hadn’t visited me once. Yet somehow, seeing him still made me happy. “I’m getting better.”

He nodded once. “That’s good.”

Silence followed. I waited. Surely that wasn’t why he’d come. Finally, he spoke again. “Sophia isn’t coping well.”

The smile slowly slipped from my face. “What?”

“The surgery has been emotionally difficult for her.” I stared at him. He continued speaking in the same calm voice he’d used throughout this entire nightmare. “She’s having panic attacks. I need to stay with her for a while.”

For a moment, I genuinely thought I’d misheard him. “You…” My lips trembled. “You need to stay with her?”

“She needs support.”

I looked down at the bandages covering my arms. “I almost died.”

“I know.” His answer came so easily.

I searched his face desperately, looking for guilt, concern, anything. There was nothing. “I thought…” I laughed softly, though it sounded more like a sob. “I thought you’d stay with me.”

He sighed. “Vivian. Sophia is emotionally fragile right now.”

I stared at him. “And what am I?”

He didn’t answer. He simply adjusted the cuff of his shirt. “I’ll come back when things settle down.” Then he turned toward the door.

My vision blurred. “Damian.” He paused without looking back. “I was scared.” My voice barely rose above a whisper. “I thought I was going to die.”

Several seconds passed. “I know.” Those were the last words he said before walking out. The door clicked shut. He never saw the tears running down my face. Or maybe he simply didn’t care.

Three days later, my doctor informed me I was medically stable enough to leave. But that wasn’t the truth. Damien had stopped covering additional hospital days and the bills had piled up. The amount was large enough to make my head hurt.

I stared at the number for a long time. Damian hadn’t answered a single one of my calls. Not one. Maybe he was still with Sophia. Maybe he had blocked my number. “I’ll pay it,” I whispered to myself. One way or another.

The nurse tried to convince me to call a family member. I smiled politely. “I’ll manage.” The words had become my favorite lie. Slowly, I climbed out of bed. Every movement felt like lifting bricks tied to my body. The corridor seemed much longer than I remembered. I kept one hand against the wall as I shuffled toward the billing department. Just a little farther. You can do this.

Halfway there, my vision blurred. The lights above me stretched into strange shapes. The floor tilted. I reached for the reception desk. My fingers missed it completely. The last thing I remembered was someone shouting for help before darkness swallowed everything.

Voices drifted in and out of my consciousness. “…blood pressure…” “…she collapsed…” “…doctor…” I forced my eyes open. The room looked familiar. Someone had brought me back to my hospital bed.

A quiet rustling sound came from the chair beside me. I turned my head. A man in a charcoal suit sat reading a business magazine. He looked up the moment he noticed I was awake. “You’re finally conscious.”

I frowned slightly. “I’m sorry…”

He closed the magazine immediately and stood. “We’ve never officially met.” His voice was calm. “My name is Ethan Sinclair.”

The name sounded familiar. Very familiar. Then it clicked. The CEO of Sinclair Holdings. One of Ashford Group’s biggest competitors. “What are you doing here?”

“My grandfather is recovering on the cardiac floor.” He gave a small smile. “I was heading back from visiting him when I saw someone collapse near the billing desk.” His eyes met mine. “I recognized you.”

Heat rushed to my face. How embarrassing. “I must look awful.”

He smiled faintly. “I’ve seen worse.”

“I doubt it.”

“I once watched my grandfather insist he could climb onto the roof to clean gutters after open-heart surgery.” Despite everything, a tiny laugh escaped me.

“There it is.”

I blinked. “What?”

“A smile.” His expression softened. “It suits you much better.”

The words weren’t flirtatious. Just… kind. After a brief silence, he asked the question I had been dreading. “Where’s Damian?”

My throat tightened. I looked away. “He’s…” The lie came automatically. “…busy.”

Ethan didn’t push it. He didn’t raise an eyebrow. Didn’t ask another question. He simply nodded. “I understand.” Somehow, that made it worse.

A nurse entered a few minutes later. “Mr. Sinclair.” He turned toward her. “I’ve finished the paperwork.” He nodded once before looking back at me. “I should let you rest.”

I watched the door close behind him, wondering why a near stranger had shown me more kindness in one afternoon than my own husband had in days.

An hour later, the same nurse returned carrying a folder. She looked unusually cheerful. “I have good news.”

I frowned. “What happened?”

She handed me several documents. I stared at them in confusion. Every outstanding balance had been stamped in bright blue ink. PAID IN FULL.

“There must be some mistake.”

“There isn’t.” The nurse smiled warmly. “Mr. Sinclair settled every one of your medical bills before he left.”

I looked up in shock. “He did what?”

“He also asked us to make sure you don’t worry about recovering alone.”

I frowned, completely bewildered. “What do you mean?”

The nurse handed me my discharge papers. “Mr. Sinclair has already arranged somewhere safe for you to recover.”