Outbid for My Own Wife

The second I tapped "Leave Auction," Vivian Sterling called.

"Withdraw your request."

Her tone was so flat, you'd think I'd submitted a report with a typo.

I held Ollie tighter and looked at the bruised needle marks on the back of his little hand.

"I can't."

"IT can restore your account. Register again. Don't make everyone else wait because of you."

I actually laughed.

Our son was scheduled for his preoperative assessment the next morning, and all she cared about was losing one bidder in her precious auction.

"Vivian, Ollie is supposed to have heart surgery tomorrow."

Two seconds of silence.

"I know."

"The doctors need both parents here to sign the paperwork. Come home tonight."

"I'll be there before nine tomorrow. Blake just moved, and he can't get everything unpacked by himself. I'll come back when we're finished."

I glanced at the clock. Eleven forty at night.

"Doesn't he have a family?"

Her voice turned icy.

"Miles, you already quit the auction. That means you don't get to question who has my time now."

She hung up.

Ollie lifted his head. "Mommy isn't coming home again?"

I pulled his sleeve gently over the bruises. "The doctor said you need plenty of sleep tonight, buddy."

At nine the next morning, Vivian was nowhere to be seen.

Dr. Hollis, the cardiologist, slid a consent form toward me.

"The hole in your son's ventricular septum is more serious than we anticipated. We can't delay the procedure much longer. Is his mother coming?"

It took seven calls before someone answered. It wasn't Vivian.

"Miles, it's Blake," said her ex-boyfriend. "Vivian's in the shower. Is it urgent?"

"Put her on."

"We were up until three getting things organized. She only just fell asleep. There are doctors at the hospital, right? It's not like she can perform the operation herself."

Then Vivian took the phone, sounding groggy.

"I misjudged the time. Sign what you can. I'll come when they actually operate."

"There's a form you have to sign in person. They need to know about inherited heart disease. Your father had bypass surgery. You're the only one who knows the details."

"Send them to Tessa, my assistant. She'll handle it."

Dr. Hollis heard her and took the phone from my hand.

"Ms. Sterling, an assistant cannot answer a parent's medical-history questions. Your son's condition is critical. Come to the hospital immediately."

"I can spare twenty minutes after three."

The line went dead.

Ollie sat on the examination chair, his feet dangling inches above the floor. He looked from the doctor to me, then picked up the pen and carefully scrawled his name across the consent form.

"Dr. Hollis, I can sign for myself. Mommy's busy. I say it's okay to fix my heart."

I scooped him into my arms and clenched my fists so hard they hurt.

Vivian finally arrived at 3:17 p.m.

Blake followed her, wearing a pair of custom silver cuff links I'd spent three months looking for.

I'd bought them for our seventh wedding anniversary. My initials were engraved on the inside.

"Take those off," I said.

Blake hid his wrists. "Vivian found them in an old box. She said nobody wanted them, so I thought I'd try them on. I'm sorry. If they mean that much to you, I'll give them back."

For someone offering to return them, he was gripping them awfully tightly.

As we struggled over the cuff links, one snapped free and clattered to the floor.

I bent to retrieve it, but Vivian stopped me.

"They're just old cuff links. If they're dirty, throw them away. I'll buy another pair."