Chapter 3

At two in the morning, the pain from my wound still hadn't stopped.

Once I'd regained a little strength, I braced myself against the bed and stood. I barely made it two steps before my legs gave out again.

Audrey still hadn't come home. I called her twice, but she never answered. In the end, I called a ride and forced myself to make it through the ER alone.

One of the nurses took a single look at me and immediately hurried over to support me. "You're white as a sheet. What's wrong?"

I forced myself to lift my shirt, revealing the blood-soaked bandages underneath.

Her expression changed the moment she saw them, and she immediately called over another nurse.

Once I was in an exam room, the doctor pressed an ultrasound probe against the wound. I flinched from the pain. He remained expressionless for a long moment before finally looking at me in surprise.

"Who treated this wound?"

I froze. "I did."

The doctor sighed, sounding exasperated. "With an injury this serious, how could you possibly treat it yourself?"

Realizing something was seriously wrong, I murmured helplessly, "I went to the hospital at first. After that, I thought I could take care of it myself..."

Audrey didn't want me constantly going back to the hospital. She'd said it was nothing more than an ordinary injury and would heal on its own. There was no need to put on a show for her or try to make her feel sorry for me.

So after that, I'd changed the dressings and bandaged the wound myself, enduring the pain every time.

"At this point, one of your kidneys is severely infected and necrotic. It needs to be removed as soon as possible," the doctor said evenly. "You'll need to decide when you want to schedule the surgery."

I sat there in stunned silence for a long time.

Then I closed my eyes, and tears silently slipped down my cheeks. "There's no need to schedule it. Do it today."

The sooner it was over, the sooner I'd be free of it.

When my crying finally broke into quiet sobs, the nurse handed me the surgical consent form with a sympathetic expression. "Have a family member sign this."

I stared down at the signature line, sniffed, and shook my head firmly. "I don't have any family."

"What about your wife?"

"She's dead."

The nurse froze.

I simply took the pen from her and signed the waiver myself.

Denver Walsh.

By the time I finished the last stroke, my hand was shaking so badly I could barely hold the pen.

After surgery, I was taken to the recovery ward.

The man in the bed beside mine had also just come out of surgery. His wife tucked the blanket around him, speaking softly as she comforted him, "The doctor said the incision isn't too bad. You'll be better in no time.

"When we get home, I'll make sure we keep up with your checkups. I'll never let you go through something like this again."

The man squeezed her hand, and the two of them stayed close, completely wrapped up in each other.

I turned away.

Then, remembering something, I picked up my phone. The screen lit up.

Audrey hadn't returned either of my calls. There was only a single message from her.

[The trial is coming up, so it isn't appropriate for us to see each other right now. I'll be staying at the firm for the next few days.]

Her social media feed, however, was another story. She'd posted a photo of Talon's nomination notice, and the comments underneath were filled with congratulations.

Talon had replied modestly: [Thank you, Professor Walsh, for standing by me all this time. I wouldn't be where I am today without you.]

Audrey immediately responded by praising him for being humble.

The two of them continued exchanging pleasantries in the comments.

I stared at the screen for a long time. Then, before closing the app, I quietly blocked her.

It was nearly dawn by the time my IV finished.

After the needle was removed, I went home. The divorce agreement from Melanie had arrived as well.

I carefully read through the entire document.

Division of assets. Allocation of debts. Ownership of the house. Joint savings.

Audrey had made plenty of money over the years. So had I.

But I had no interest in fighting with her over any of it. What belonged to me, I wouldn't give up a cent. What didn't belong to me, I didn't want a cent of.

Then I reached the final page and saw how we were identified in the agreement.

Party A: Denver Walsh.

Party B: Audrey Taylor.

Once, those two names had appeared together on our marriage certificate.

Now they were side by side on a divorce agreement.

I stared at them for a long time. Then I picked up the pen. Without the slightest hesitation, I signed my name.