Only Way to Say Sorry

The hospital room was engulfed in silence, the kind that pressed down like a suffocating weight. Suddenly, an abrupt, piercing ringtone shattered it. Rebecca Little quickly pulled out her phone, answering with a light, soothing laugh.

"It's nothing, really. He's tough—he's already recovering well. You haven't slept in days, so get some rest, okay?"

I couldn't hear what was said on the other end, but she sighed softly, her tone shifting into one of indulgent helplessness as she murmured, "Alright, alright."

Covering the receiver with her hand, she turned to me, her face darkening as she snapped, "Hendrix wants to apologize to you. Tell him you're fine and that you won't hold him accountable. Stop making him feel guilty! He hasn't slept for days because of this. You're almost twenty-six—stop holding grudges like some petty child against someone who's only twenty-three!"

Her tone left no room for negotiation, as if her words were law.

I took a deep breath, but the pain from the dialysis procedures clawed at my body again, an agonizing reminder of my fragility. Rebecca, however, seemed oblivious to my pallid face and the sheer exhaustion weighing me down. Instead, she wanted me to tell the man responsible for this that it was okay and that I didn't blame him.

She thrust the phone toward me, and as I reluctantly brought it to my ear, a male voice immediately filled the line.

"Spencer, I'm so sorry! It was my mistake—I was rushing to deliver clothes to Ms. Little and accidentally switched your medication. I know you're upset, but Ms. Little said she can't manage without me, and the company needs me too. So, I hope you'll let this go for her sake."

The apology dripped with insincerity, and his smug, self-satisfied tone made my skin crawl.

Three rounds of dialysis, two brushes with death—and all I got was this nauseating excuse of an apology.

Rebecca stared at me, her patience visibly wearing thin. She gave my shoulder a shove and barked, "Why aren't you saying anything? Hendrix has already apologized! What more do you want, Spencer? I thought you were different from other men, someone with maturity and grace, but clearly, I was wrong. You're so petty."

The pain in my abdomen began to intensify, the sharp throbs radiating through my entire body. I didn't have the strength to endure her tirade any longer. Gathering what little energy I had left, I croaked out, "Rebecca… please… call the nurse for me…"

Before she could respond, a sudden burst of sobbing came through the phone. Hendrix's voice trembled dramatically. "Spencer, I know you'll never forgive me. I'm so sorry—I don't deserve to live anymore!"

Rebecca shot me an accusatory glare, her eyes burning with fury. "Hendrix has depression! If his condition worsens because of you, I swear I'll never forgive you!"

Then, without missing a beat, her tone softened as she spoke into the phone, her voice laced with concern and affection, "Hendrix, calm down. Please don't do anything rash. I'm coming over right now."

I watched her determined figure stride out of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. I reached for the nurse's call button, but the effort made me dizzy. Losing my balance, I collapsed to the floor, the pain dragging me into unconsciousness.

By the time I was discharged from the hospital, Rebecca still hadn't visited me once.

The next time I saw her, it was in one of Hendrix Cannon's social media posts. He had tagged his location in the Malidines, and the photo showed Rebecca curled up against his neck on a hotel bed.

The caption read, [Who else has a boss this amazing? Taking me on a relaxing getaway—all expenses paid!]

Scrolling further, I found more posts: Rebecca buying him a designer suit and treating him to an exclusive, impossibly expensive restaurant.

Each post was clearly aimed at me. No mutual friends had liked them—they were crafted specifically to provoke me.

In the past, I would've called Rebecca in a rage, screaming while demanding answers, letting my anger boil over into a shouting match.

But now, I couldn't muster even the faintest flicker of fury. I felt nothing but exhaustion, an emptiness that left no space for anger.

I closed the app in silence and went straight to a lawyer's office to draft divorce papers.

When I got home, Rebecca was lounging in the living room, smiling as she texted someone. Seeing me, she froze for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.

"You're back already?"

Her attempt to hide her phone behind her back was so blatant it didn't need explaining. I already knew who she was messaging.