Chapter 4

By the time I left Holt Group, the rain was coming down harder.

The pain in my stomach was becoming more intense.

A confirmation text for my appointment with the law firm popped up. The time was set for 3:00 pm the next afternoon.

I kept staring at the message, and a strange sense of certainty settled over me.

I realized I didn't have to scream myself hoarse to leave someone.

I just had to tap "Confirm".

By the time I got home a little after 6:00 pm, I was running a low fever.

In the bathroom mirror, my face looked unusually pale.

The rainwater on my pant legs had dried, leaving the fabric cold and clammy against my skin. It reminded me of how miserable I had looked on the way home.

Jillian's message was still at the top of my chat.

[Don't wait for me at 7:00 pm tonight. We have a project review after the meeting.]

I stared at the message and suddenly found it ridiculous.

Even the half hour she had set aside for me could be canceled at the last minute.

I turned my phone face down. I didn't want to look at it anymore.

Then a sharp, stabbing pain hit my upper abdomen. The pain was different from before. It was so sharp that it felt as if something inside my stomach had torn.

I stood leaning against the wall for a long time. In the end, I called a cab and went to the hospital alone.

The doctor looked over my test results and said, "You have a perforated stomach ulcer that's bleeding. You need surgery right away."

I sat in my chair in a daze.

My first reaction wasn't fear. I was just too shocked to know how to react.

Jillian and I hadn't had a proper conversation in a long time. I couldn't expect her to be there for me now.

But when the surgery consent form was placed in my hand, I still felt a sense of dread.

I suddenly felt so hopeless.

The doctor looked at me with a grave expression.

"Your condition is serious, and you need surgery tonight. We can't afford to wait. You also need to avoid any more stress. Is there someone you can call to be here with you?"

I looked down at my phone. It was 6:47 pm. There were 13 minutes left before the time Jillian had set aside for me.

But tonight, she had told me not to wait for that half hour.

I stared at my phone for a long time. For the first time, I decided to ignore her rules.

I called her, but she didn't answer.

She didn't pick up when I tried again either. The third call rang until it disconnected automatically, and the screen went dark again.

I gripped my test results as my fingers grew colder.

In the end, I sent her just one message. "Jillian, I'm at the hospital."

After a long wait, she sent me a short reply. "What is it?"

My throat tightened. "It's important."

There was another 30 seconds of silence.

Then she sent another message. "We'll talk at 7:00 pm."

I stared at her reply. Suddenly, even breathing became painful.

She hadn't missed my messages, and she knew I was at the hospital. She just thought that even my emergencies had to fit into her schedule.

At exactly 7:00 pm, my phone buzzed. Jillian finally called.

It was noisy on the other end. She seemed to be in a private dining room.

Jesse's voice came through first. "Ms. Holt, let me drink this one for you!"

Then I heard Jillian whisper, "You've had quite a bit to drink. Don't push yourself."

I tightened my grip on the papers in my hand. "Jillian, I'm at the hospital."

She paused. "You already told me that in your message. It's 7:00 pm now. Get to the point."

I clutched the papers even tighter. "I need surgery."

Jesse suddenly coughed on the other end. He sounded a little hoarse.

"Ms. Holt, I'm fine. Those drinks were nothing."

Jillian sighed.

"Steven, Jesse drank several glasses for me and isn't feeling well. I'm taking care of him. If it's not an emergency, don't try to prove how important you are at a time like this."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

The pain in my stomach suddenly became much worse. I grabbed the hallway wall for support, and cold sweat broke out all over me.

"Jillian, my stomach hurts so much," I managed to say.

"Then see a doctor. That will help more than calling me."

She hung up.

The time showed 7:08 pm.

When I called again, she didn't answer.

Later, a nurse found me curled up by the restroom door. Cold sweat had soaked the back of my shirt.

Terrified, she rushed to get help.

I was still clutching my phone when they wheeled me into the operating room.

The screen lit up, then went dark again.

No one called.

-

When I came to, it was almost dawn outside.

The doctor stood beside my bed, speaking softly. "The surgery is over. If we had waited any longer, the perforation and infection could have become life-threatening."

I stared at the white ceiling without moving for a long time.

I finally understood that the deeper the hurt, the harder it is to say anything at all.

-

At 4:00 am the next day, I slipped out of the hospital despite the pain and the fact that I still needed to be under observation.

I made my way back home alone.

The motion-sensor light came on in Jillian's study.

I took out my test results, medical records, and the surgery consent form I had crumpled in my fist. I placed each item on her keyboard, along with my wedding ring.

Then I opened our shared calendar.

I deleted the daily 7:00 pm to 7:30 pm time slot that had been on our calendar for three years. A prompt appeared, asking if I wanted to delete all future events.

I clicked "Confirm".

Finally, I typed a message in the notes field.

[Jillian, you don't have to deal with me anymore. I'll have my lawyer send you the divorce papers. Also, I had emergency surgery last night.

[Don't worry. From the moment I was diagnosed until I was wheeled into the operating room, I didn't take up a single minute of your time.]