His neglected wife (Her revenge)

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Campbell, but she was brought in too late. We did everything we could.”

The doctor's voice was careful, remorseful and already defeated.

“No.” Natalie shook her head hard. “No. That's not…” Her words sounded like a broken record.  “You're lying.”

Her hands trembled as she staggered back, disbelief hollowing out her chest. A second passed, then another and then something inside her snapped.

She screamed, lunging forward, her fingers clutching the doctor's coat.

“You're lying,” she screamed, the sound came out raw, broken and unrecognisable. “My daughter can't be dead.”

Parker, who'd been standing just behind her, rushed in, trying to pry her hands loose, murmuring her name and apologising to the doctor as he pulled her back.

Natalie barely registered him. She let go of the doctor’s coat and began to fumble at the bloodstained jeans she was wearing, her hands frantic as she searched for her phone. It wasn't there.

“Parker,” she gasped. “Your phone. Give me your phone.

He didn't hesitate. He pulled it from his back pocket and pressed it into her shaking hands.

She dialed quickly, lifting the phone to her ear. The call went straight to voicemail.

She dialed again, and again but it always took her straight to voicemail.

Six years of marriage. Six years of swallowing silence, six years of enduring a man who had despised the sight of her, who had blamed her for the life he never got to live…with the woman he truly loved.

She had stayed in the marriage anyways, like the unwanted wife she was. But it was for one reason, for one person.

And no life had ripped that reason from her hands.

A broken laugh tore from her throat as she stumbled backward, still clutching the phone.  It sounded hysterical, unhinged…like fried spilling out without permission.

She should have left. She should have left when it became unbearable. 

She should have left when Jake's first love returned…pregnant with another man's child and he still chose her over them. She should have left when he stopped seeing their daughter, when birthdays passed unnoticed,when bedtime calls went unanswered.

But she hadn't and now it was too late. But she hadn’t.

The hospital hallway stretched endlessly in both directions, white and sterile and indifferent. People moved around her… doctors, nurses, strangers.. but none of it reached her. The world narrowed to a single, unbearable truth she could not yet touch.

Dead.. Her daughter was dead.

The world floated near her mind but refused to settle. It felt unreal, unfinished like a sentence cut off mid-breath.

Parker guided her to a chair she didn't remember sitting in. Her legs folded beneath her without protest. The phone slipped from her hand and clattered softly against the floor.

“She can't be,” Natalie whispered, staring straight ahead. “She was fine this morning.”

Her voice was quiet now. It sounded empty and far off.

Parker crouched in front of her, careful and uncertain. “Nat…”

“She had cereal,” Natalie continued, the words spilling out mechanically. “She didn't even finish it. Said she wasn't that hungry. I told her she'd regret it later.” Her lips trembled. “I didn't make her finish.”

Her hands curled into fists in her lap.

“I told her I'd pick her up early today,” she went on. “ I promised.”

Parker swallowed, his jaw tight. “This isn't your fault.”

Natalie didn't respond. Fault had nothing to do with it. Promises did.

She stared at the smear of dried blood on her jeans, trying to remember when it got there. The image of flashing lights, screaming sirens, the taste of copper in her mouth surfaced briefly…then vanished again, replaced by nothing.

A nurse approached cautiously. “Mrs Campbell…when you're ready, we'll need you to come see her.”

Natalie looked up slowly, almost in a daze.

“See who?” She asked.

The nurse’s expression faltered.

Parker stood abruptly. “Giver her a moment,” he said, sharper than he's intended.

The nurse nodded and retreated. 

Natalie leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her head dropping into her hands. Her shoulders shook, but no sound came out. The grief sat heavy in her chest, suffocating, too dense to escape.

Jake still hadn't answered or returned any of her calls.

She reached for the phone again, fingers numb as she redialed.

Voicemail again.

Her lips pressed together, something dark and bitter rising in her throat.

Of course he wouldn't pick.

She pictured him the way he always was…distracted, distant, already gone even when  he was physically present. She imagined the annoyance on his face if he saw her name lighting up his screen. Natalie.j Again.

She had stopped calling him months ago unless it was about their daughter.

Now even that didn't matter anymore.

A quiet devastating clarity settles over her.

He wasn't coming.

Whether because he wouldn't believe her, didn't care or simply didn't want to…she didn't know. The reason no longer mattered.

She stood abruptly, startling Parker.

“I need to see her,” she said.

Her voice was steadier than she felt.

The nurse led them down a short corridor to a closed door. Natalie paused in front of it, her hand hovering inches from the handle.

This was the moment everything ended.

Once she opened that door, there would be no going back…no pretending,no bargaining, no fragile hope clinging to anything else but reality.

Her hand dropped and she pressed her forehead against the cool surface instead, breathing shallowly.

“She hates hospitals,” Natalie murmured. “Said they smelled like sadness.”

Parker said nothing. He knew, because he was the one who'd accompanied her to the hospital on nights where Skylar had emergencies and Jake was nowhere to be found.

After a long moment, Natalie straightened and pushed the open..

The room was too quiet, uncomfortably quiet.

Her daughter lay on the bed, small and still, her hair smoothed back, face pale in a way that didn't belong to a six year old child. She looked like she was sleeping…peaceful, untouched by the chaos that had brought her here.

Natalie took a step forward. Then another.

Her knees buckled halfway across the room, and Parker caught her before she hit the floor.

“No,” Natalie whispered. “No, no, no…”

She reached out with trembling fingers, touching her daughter's hand.  They were so cold.

The reality hit her then..not all at once but in crushing waves.

She screamed. The sound tore through the room, through the hospital, through whatever fragile part of her was left. It was not loud…it was deep like the final breakdown of reality hitting too deep.

Parker held her as she collapsed beside the bed, clutching her daughter's hand like she could still will warmth back into it.

“I'm here,” Natalie sobbed. “Mama's here. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

The words poured out, useless and endless.

“Parker, don't let them cover her up, she's claustrophobic.” She clutched her daughter's hand tighter

“She won't be able to breathe please.” She added.

Outside the room, life continued.

Inside, Natalie Campbell lost the only thing that had kept her a fragile woman.

“I'll make him pay. Mommy will get revenge