Billionnaire's regret: Ex-wife is an heiress

At 3:12 a.m., a woman with a suspected self-inflicted injury was rushed into the ER.

A tall man stood beside the gurney in a pilot’s uniform, four gold stripes on his shoulders. He looked like he had come straight from an overnight flight.

His dark eyes were filled with worry.

He had to be the woman’s husband.

And he was Nikki Sanders’s ex-boyfriend.

The chart the nurse held out remained suspended in midair. Nikki’s hand trembled inside the pocket of her white coat, and for a moment, she forgot to take it.

Four years apart had worn away Sean Ford’s youthful swagger. The bright eyes she remembered had grown steadier, sharper, more guarded.

“Dr. Sanders?”

Nikki snapped back to herself and accepted the chart.

At the same time, Sean looked up.

She caught the flash of shock in his eyes. Even his lashes trembled.

Nikki didn’t look at him again. She focused on the patient.

The injury looked alarming, but it wasn’t life-threatening.

She calmly explained the patient’s condition while Sean stood nearby without moving.

His hand gripped the rail at the end of the bed so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

“Prep the OR. I’m closing the wound.”

On the way there, Nikki’s fingers brushed over the old scar on her left wrist.

Four years ago, Sean had ditched her the day after proposing.

She had ended up in a far more serious medical crisis than this one.

It had taken two days in intensive care before she finally woke up.

The first thing she did was ask her best friend, Jane Lincoln, to call Sean.

Jane had put the call on speaker.

Half-conscious, Nikki heard his voice on the other end of the line.

“If she wants to die, let her. I won't even show up to the funeral!”

That was when she finally understood.

Her life meant nothing to Sean.

And the love she had clung to so desperately was nothing more than a joke.

The surgical lights overhead were cold and glaring.

Nikki lowered her head and treated the patient’s injury, working with steady hands as she cleaned it and closed it.

Halfway through, Vivian Carter woke up.

Her eyes fluttered open. The moment she saw Nikki, surprise flashed across her face before she quickly composed herself.

Then she smiled.

“They still let you practice medicine?”

Nikki didn’t look up.

“Don’t move. I’m still closing the wound.”

Four years ago, when Sean had broken up with Nikki for Vivian, Nikki had been at the most critical stage of applying for a doctoral program.

That heartbreak had nearly destroyed her future.

The young nurse beside them missed the sarcasm in Vivian’s voice and chimed in proudly.

“Dr. Sanders was recruited from overseas by our hospital, one of the city’s top medical centers. They offered her a permanent position right away. She’s seriously impressive.”

Vivian said nothing else.

She lay quietly on the table, only frowning now and then when the pain hit. Still, she held herself with an odd, deliberate dignity.

After Nikki finished the final stitch, she cut the thread and removed her gloves.

“Observe her for two hours.”

She turned to leave.

“Dr. Sanders, I cut myself while putting away my husband’s razor. It wasn’t intentional.”

Vivian’s voice drifted over from behind her.

“My husband loves me, my son is an angel, and it's not like I'm some unwanted woman. Why would I ever do something as stupid as trying to kill myself?”

She made sure to emphasize the words “unwanted woman.”

Nikki stopped.

She didn’t turn around right away.

For two long seconds, she stood there with her back to Vivian.

The operating room was so quiet that the monitor’s steady beeping seemed deafening.

Then Nikki turned.

She walked back to the bed, looked down at Vivian, and smiled.

“You don’t need to explain yourself. I see this kind of cheap attention stunt all the time. You’re not special.”

She paused.

“It’s always the same. Women who feel unloved do desperate things just to get someone’s attention. I hope you’re different.”

Vivian’s face went pale.

Her lips moved, but no words came out.

*

Patients with self-inflicted injuries had to remain under observation for two hours and could only leave with the attending physician’s approval.

Nikki stood outside the observation room, its door half open.

Sean had his back to her as he stood beside Vivian’s bed.

The sight of him brought back memories of the three years they had been together.

Once, when Nikki had been hospitalized with a severe stomach infection, Sean had stood by her bedside in exactly the same way.

Now, that tenderness belonged to someone else.

“Just don’t hurt yourself again. I’ll do whatever you want. Eli needs you.”

Eli.

That had to be their son.

Nikki lowered her eyes and let out a humorless laugh.

Her fingers brushed over the scar on her left wrist.

Funny how differently it worked out.

They had both gone to extremes for the same man. One got a promise. The other was told to go die.

She pushed open the door.

“Ms. Carter, your observation time is up.”

Without sparing Sean a glance, Nikki walked to the bed and checked the patient’s injury.

“It’s healing well. Sign the discharge form, and you can go.”

Her voice was all business, cool and distant.

The moment she entered, the atmosphere in the room shifted.

Sean turned around.

Their eyes met.

For a second, Nikki saw him part his lips, as though he wanted to say something.

“Honey, sign for me.”

Vivian cut in at just the right moment.

Sean took the pen and signed the form.

Nikki’s gaze dropped to the page.

His handwriting had always been neat and precise. Today, it was barely legible.

“Honey, I want to go home.”

Vivian’s voice was weak and shaky, almost tearful.

Sean gave a quiet hum, then bent down and lifted her into his arms.

Nikki stood there and watched him carry another woman the same way he had once carried her.

As he passed her, he paused.

Only for a second.

So briefly that Vivian didn’t even notice.

His gaze skimmed over Nikki’s face, and his breathing hitched.

Nikki remained where she was, listening to his footsteps fade down the hall.

When she looked down, her fingers had gone white around the clipboard.

She took a slow breath, arranged to leave early, and walked out of the ER.

The cold predawn wind slipped beneath the collar of her coat. Nikki pulled it tighter around herself.

Her phone buzzed.

It was a text from Felix Zeller.

“You should be off soon. I brought you breakfast. I’m outside the staff lounge now.”

Nikki stared at the screen, remembering the first time they had met.

The charge nurse had introduced them three months earlier.

Over dinner, Felix had asked what kind of man she liked.

“Someone dependable, I guess.”

He had smiled.

“Then I might be your type.”

And he was.

At thirty-two, he was already an attending neurosurgeon. He had grown up in a small town and earned everything the hard way, working his way through school on scholarships.

His résumé was impeccable.

So was the quiet, steady way he carried himself.

Nothing like Sean.

Sean had been born into money as the Ford family’s younger son. His older brother handled the family business, leaving Sean free to fly the planes he loved and live however he pleased.

For the three years they had been together, Nikki and Sean had clicked instantly.

Their chemistry had been electric. They never ran out of things to say. More often than not, they would lie wrapped around each other and talk until morning.

Back then, Nikki had honestly believed she had found her fairy tale.

Now, she saw it differently.

She had only been a rich man’s diversion.

Once he was done with her, he had moved on without missing a beat.

He had wanted passion, not a future.

Nikki pushed the memories aside and texted back.

“Thanks. I’ll be there in a minute.”

She quickened her pace toward the staff lounge.

As she rounded the corner, she caught a faint red glow through the glass door of the emergency stairwell.

Someone was standing there, smoking.

She didn’t give it much thought at first.

Then, after taking two more steps, she froze.

That silhouette was far too familiar.

Broad shoulders. A lean, athletic frame. His pilot’s uniform was still on.

The four gold stripes on his shoulders caught the dim light beneath the green EXIT sign.

Sean leaned against the wall with a cigarette between his fingers. The tip glowed in the darkness.

He hadn’t left.

Nikki paused for a second.

Then she looked away and kept walking.

But her pulse had already gone unsteady.

Sean had never smoked before.

Once, she had jokingly told him to try it. He had frowned and leaned away.

“It smells awful,” he had said.

Now, he smoked like he had been doing it for years.

When Nikki reached the staff lounge, Felix was waiting outside with an insulated bag in hand.

“Have you been waiting long?”

“I just got here.” He smiled and held out the bag. “I brought you a breakfast sandwich. Eat it while it’s warm.”

“Thanks.”

As she took it, Nikki glanced toward the far end of the hallway.

Sean was still behind the glass door.

The tip of his cigarette flared again.

He still hadn’t left.

He just stood there, smoking one cigarette after another.

Then Felix spoke beside her.

“Have you given any more thought to what I brought up last time?”