THE BILL I COULDN'T PAY

Amelia's POV

The number on the paper refused to change no matter how many times I blinked: $48,732.  

I held the hospital bill tightly.  

Forty-eight thousand, seven hundred and thirty-two dollars.  

It didn't seem real to me yet. Maybe it's a mistake, or maybe someone had accidentally added extra digits.  

I was trying to convince myself this wasn't real. It looked unreal, but it was real.  

Every appointment I had, every test I took, every pregnancy that ended before I could hold my baby, and each day I went to the hospital—  

all of it had become a number. All of it became a debt and reminded me of everything I had lost.

"Mrs. Carter?"

The receptionist's voice snapped me back to reality. I quickly lowered the paper.

"Y-Yes?" I replied, forcing a smile. She offered me a professional smile in return.

"The payment deadline is next week. If the balance isn't settled, the account will be forwarded to collections."

My stomach dropped instantly. I had to force a smile. "Okay."

The lie tasted bitter to me. There was nothing okay about this. Absolutely nothing. The receptionist nodded and turned her attention to another patient.

I remained frozen in my seat; I couldn't move. The waiting room was crowded; people walked past me. Doctors moved through the hallway in their blue and white striped coats. Some nurses pushed carts with medical carts.

Life continued around me while mine felt completely stuck. I looked around; my gaze drifted towards the maternity wing sign hanging down the corridor.

I looked away immediately. Even after all these years, it still hurts.

I reached for my phone. My husband is the only option I have now. Ryan is never concerned, but he is my only choice.

My thumb hovered over his contact. For a moment, I hesitated. Then I pressed call.

The ringing began. It rang once, twice, three times. I sent him a voicemail. Ryan isn't responding. Maybe he was busy. Ryan was always busy.

I called him again. It was the same result. Then, I sent him another voicemail. Yet—nothing.

I stared at the screen. Ryan didn't text back. He didn't call back. No explanation from him. He just went silent again. This isn't a new thing; I had become familiar with it.

A year ago, Ryan would have answered before the first ring. A year ago, he would have dropped everything if I needed him. A year ago, I wasn't sitting alone in a hospital, wondering when my marriage had started feeling like a stranger's house.

I quickly looked away before tears could form. I don't want to cry here. Crying in public was embarrassing. Crying in public when people were already staring at me was even worse.

I stood up from my seat. Maybe fresh air would help. Maybe breathing would help. Maybe nothing would help.

As I walked toward the exit, a pair of women passed by. They weren't whispering quietly enough. I could literally hear every single word.

"Is that her?"

"Who?"

"Ryan Carter's wife."

I kept walking, though. "Oh."

"I almost didn't recognize her.”

Neither did I. I don't recognize myself anymore. This isn't the woman I used to be. I have changed completely.

The women continued.

"She used to be gorgeous."

"Stress changes people."

"No, that's more than stress."

They laughed softly. I lowered my head. Every word landed exactly where it hurt because they weren't entirely wrong.

There was a time when people looked at me differently. There was a time when I looked at myself differently.

I was different before the miscarriages, before the depression, and before food became the only thing that made the loneliness disappear, even if only for a few minutes.

The woman staring back at me in mirrors these days barely resembles the one in my wedding photos. I hate admitting that, but it's the truth.

I pushed through the hospital doors and stepped outside. Cool air brushed against my face. I closed my eyes for a moment.

The city buzzed around me. Cars moved. People were moving. Life moved on. I felt detached from all of it.

My phone remained silent in my hand. Ryan still hadn't called me back. I stared at his name on my screen. The photo attached to his contact showed us on our honeymoon.

We were smiling. We were happily in love. Back then, the future seemed simple. Back then, we believed we'd have everything: a beautiful house, a family, children running through hallways.

But instead, our guest room remained empty. The nursery we once planned never existed. Somewhere along the way, grief moved into our marriage and refused to leave.

My phone suddenly vibrated. Hope exploded inside me. I hoped it was Ryan. My heart leaped as I looked down.

It's not Ryan; it's an unknown number. The hope died instantly. I answered anyway.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Carter?"

The voice was formal and professional.

"Yes.”

"This is regarding your outstanding medical balance."  

My stomach sank instantly. Not again. I've had enough already.

"We've attempted to contact you several times."

"I know."

"Will you be making a payment this week?"  

My throat felt dry. It sounded more like a joke to me.

"I... I need more time."  

Then the woman sighed.

"I'm sorry, but we've already granted several extensions."

Humiliation burned through me. People were walking past me. Anyone could literally hear.

"I'll find a way," I tried whispering as much as I could.

The call ended shortly after. I lowered my phone.  

My hands were trembling.  

How had everything gotten so bad?  

When had my life become a collection of unpaid bills and unanswered phone calls?

I wanted to scream really badly. Instead, I sat on a bench near the hospital entrance.  

Tears rolled down my cheeks before I could stop them.

One tear, then another, then another.  

I quickly wiped them away.  

I shouldn't be crying because no one cared.  

Nobody was coming to save me.  

Certainly not Ryan.  

The realization hurt more than I wanted to admit.  

A black luxury car pulled into the hospital parking lot. I barely noticed the car.  

My attention remained fixed on the bill clenched in my hand.  

The paper crumpled beneath my grip. Forty-eight thousand dollars. How was I supposed to pay that?  

All my savings were gone. My credit cards were nearly maxed out. And I couldn't bring myself to tell Ryan.  

I can't tell Ryan after everything. Ryan always looked exhausted every time he came home.  

I can't tell him now that our marriage felt like it was hanging by a thread.  

I buried my face in my hands. I don't want to overthink anymore. I felt like the world had disappeared.  

I blame myself. I should blame Ryan. I don't know who to blame.

A familiar voice shattered everything.  

"Amelia?"  

My body froze instantly.  

The voice wasn't supposed to be here. This voice belonged to another life. The voice belonged to another version of me.  

I lifted my head slowly. My heart stopped.  

A tall man stood several feet away. His hair was dark. His shoulders were broad. His eyes were familiar.  

No, he looked too familiar.  

My breath caught in my throat.  

No. It couldn't be. Stupid me. My brain is playing tricks on me again.  

The man stared at me in stunned silence,  

as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing either.  

We both looked surprised.  

"Amelia..."  

My fingers loosened around the hospital bill.  

The paper slipped from my hand and fluttered to the ground.  

The man's gaze followed it. His eyes landed on the hospital logo.  

Then on the total balance printed across the page.

His expression changed instantly. I can't tell if he is concerned, shocked, or worried, or if he feels them all.

When he looked back at me, I saw recognition fully settle into his features. Suddenly, I knew exactly who was standing in front of me.

Lucas Bennett.

My childhood best friend. It wasn't my brain playing tricks on me.

The boy who used to chase me around playgrounds. The boy who promised we'd always stay friends. The boy I hadn't seen in nearly ten years.

He was here. Lucas was standing in front of me. He was obviously looking at the mess my life had become. And from the expression on his face, I knew he had seen far more than I wanted him to.

"Amelia," he said quietly.

"What happened to you?" My heart skipped instantly because, for the first time in years, someone had finally noticed me.

I had no idea whether this would save me or destroy what little was left of my heart.