Chapter 11: The Wife I Choose to Be  

The burner phone vibrated against my palm at 2:17 a.m.  

Unknown number. Third time tonight.  

The first two calls were the same. Silence. Breathing. Then a click.  

I shoved the phone into my scrub pocket.  

Detective Singh wanted a log of every threat. She did not need to know how each call dragged me back to seventeen. Back to the sound of my locker slamming shut with my books inside it.  

Roman shifted in the hospital bed. Even asleep, he looked braced for a hit.  

The monitors kept time with his heart. Steady. Stronger than yesterday.  

“You are awake,” he said.  

His voice was rough with sleep. But his eyes were clear. Clearer than they had been since he woke three weeks ago.  

“Could not sleep.” I checked his IV. My hands needed something to do.  

Standing still meant feeling everything. I could not afford that. Not with him watching me like this.  

Since he remembered Vegas, the space between us had changed.  

The rules I lived by were bleeding out. The ones that kept Nurse Monroe separate from Isla.  

He caught my wrist. His grip was careful. Like he thought I might break.  

“You are scared.”  

“I am a trauma nurse, Roman. Fear is not in the job description.”  

The lie scraped my throat.  

I was terrified. Of Julian taking control at seven. Of Singh deciding I was a suspect instead of a target. On the way my body leaned toward Roman without my permission.  

He traced his thumb over my pulse. “Not of him. Of me. Of what I am starting to remember.”  

I stepped back and picked up his chart. “Your vitals are stable. Physical therapy is at nine. Dr. Lang wants another cognitive assessment.”  

“Isla.”  

Saying my name like that should be illegal.  

I met his eyes.  

Ten years ago, Roman Kade wore cruelty like a designer suit. Cold. Perfect. Untouchable.  

The man in front of me had scars on his ribs and confusion in his smile.  

The crash took his company. His father’s control. His memory.  

It left him with nothing except a seventeen year old girl he could not forget.  

And he looked at me like I was the only safe thing left in his world.  

“I need to tell you something.” My throat closed. “I am getting you out of here.”  

He went rigid against the pillows. “What?”  

“At 7 a.m., Julian becomes your medical proxy. He is moving you to Clearview. Private facility. Private security. Private funeral if he gets his way.”  

I kept my voice below a whisper. Westbridge walls listened.  

“If he gets you there, you die.”  

Roman pushed himself up. Pain flickered across his face. “You would lose everything. Your career. Your name. Isla, if they catch you—”  

“I know what I will lose.” I cut him off. If he spelled it out, I might back down. “I took an oath. You are my patient. And on paper, you are my husband. That means I will protect you.”  

Something broke open in his expression. Guilt. Or maybe hope.  

“You do not owe me anything. Not after high school.”  

“You did not have a choice then.” The truth hit me as I said it.  

For ten years I called him a monster. Now I saw the boy who took beatings for saying no.  

“I have a choice now. I choose you.”  

He searched my face. Then he nodded. One movement. Certain.  

“Tell me the plan.”  

It was reckless.  

At four a.m., shift change. Security rotated.  

I forged a transport order for a CT scan that did not exist. Wheel him through the service exit to my car. Drive to the Kade estate.  

Remote. Empty. Off Julian’s radar for a few hours.  

We never made it to the planning stage.  

A knock landed on the door like a gunshot.  

Detective Mara Singh walked in. Her gaze dropped to the duffel bag half hidden under the bed.  

“Night shift, Nurse Monroe?” Her tone was light. Her eyes were not.  

“Rough night for the patient. I stayed.”  

Singh moved to the foot of the bed. “Julian’s lawyer filed early. Court order is active at seven. I am posting an officer outside this door until transport.”  

Three hours. We just lost three hours.  

Roman found his voice first. It was the voice he must have used in boardrooms. Steel under silk.  

“Detective, let me ask you this. If someone tried to kill me once, and the man who profits from my death takes legal control in three hours, what are my odds?”  

Singh’s jaw worked. She looked at me. For the first time, she was not a cop. She was a woman who believed me.  

“Low.”  

“Then help us,” I said before I could think better of it.  

She turned off her radio. “You have thirty minutes. At 4:30, I post the officer. If this room is empty, I will assume my witness protection transfer started early. Understood?”  

I could only nod.  

When she left, Roman exhaled. “She could lose her badge.”  

“She knows.” I grabbed the duffel. “Get dressed.”  

He was weak. But his hands were steady when he took the sweatpants from me.  

When I reached for the wheelchair, he caught my hand.  

“Why? The truth. Not your oath. Why risk this for me?”  

I should have given him a clinical answer. Instead, I gave him the piece of me I had been hiding.  

“Because you said my name in your sleep last night. Not like you used to. Like it was the only thing you had left. And for the first time, I did not want to run.”  

His breath caught. He stepped into my space and cupped my face.  

His palm was rough from therapy bands. Warm. Alive.  

“I do not remember everything. But I remember you at seventeen. You looked like you were waiting for someone to finally see you. I see you, Isla. I have always seen you.”  

My chest ached.  

This was the line. The one I swore I would not cross.  

But he was not the boy who hurt me. And I was not the girl who hid.  

I let myself lean into him for one breath. One dangerous, perfect breath.  

“We have to go.”  

The halls were empty. The service elevator was clear.  

We reached my car as dawn turned the sky gray.  

For ten miles, we did not speak. Doubt was loud enough.  

“Isla,” he said finally. “Once we do this, Julian will hunt us. There is no safe after this.”  

“I know.” I did not take my eyes off the road. “But he is coming anyway. At least now we choose where we stand.”  

He laced his fingers through mine.  

“When this is over, I am going to ask you something. And I need you to answer as Isla. Not my nurse. Not my wife on paper. Just you.”  

“What?”  

“Later,” he whispered. “When we are free.”  

The burner phone buzzed. I answered it this time.  

One sentence. Then the line went dead.  

“She knows about the flash drive. Run.”  

Roman went pale. “Who is she?”  

I already knew.  

Headlights flooded the rearview mirror. A black SUV ate the distance between us.  

Roman gripped my hand harder. “Isla, no matter what happens, do not stop. You hear me? Do not stop for me.”  

The impact came from behind.  

Metal screamed. The wheel jerked out of my hands.  

And the last thing I saw before the world tilted was Roman throwing himself across my body.