The moment the call connected, Andrius’s impatient voice cut in, instantly crushing the small spark of hope in my heart.
“Calling nonstop… what do you want now?”
I swallowed the pain in my chest, forcing out a whisper. “Andrius… I’m at the hos…”
“Andrius, don’t be like that,” Trisha’s soft, coy voice interrupted. “Sister called you so many times… she must have something urgent. Talk to her properly.”
His tone turned colder, merciless. “What urgent matter could she have? After everything she’s done… maybe it’s just karma. Is she dying now?”
Each word cut into me like a blunt knife, twisting deeper with every word. My fingers clutched the hospital gown, knuckles pale from the strain.
Tears spilled uncontrollably as I choked out, “Andrius… I need surgery… I need your signature…”
“Stop making trouble,” he snapped, paying no attention to my pleas. “I don’t have time for your little tantrums. I’ll be with Trisha these days, don’t disturb us again.”
“If you dare interfere again, I will never forgive you!”
With a sharp beep, the call ended. When I tried calling again, only the cold, indifferent tone greeted me.
I was blocked.
Tears fell freely onto the blue-and-white hospital gown, leaving dark, stubborn stains.
Andrius hadn’t always been like this.
One night, when sudden stomach pain had wracked me, he had driven like a man possessed, running through red lights to get me to the hospital.
While I lay hooked to an IV, he held my hand, his voice trembling with guilt. “It’s my fault… I didn’t take care of you… That’s why you’re suffering like this.”
Afterward, he had learned to make every kind of nourishing soup, ladling each bowl himself and placing it by my hand.
“Drink some soup first, Maxine. I don’t ever want to see you in pain again.”
But now, lying in pain that felt as if death was brushing close, he couldn’t even spare me a single glance.
I should have woken up long ago.
Wiping away my tears, I whispered softly, “Can I sign it myself?”
The doctor, who had witnessed everything, nodded and patted my shoulder, his eyes full of pity.
Finally, the surgery was carried out.
When I woke, someone was sitting quietly at my bedside.
“You’re awake! Sister.”
Trisha sat there in a hospital gown, gauze wrapped around her wrist, light makeup softening her fragile features. She looked delicate, almost ethereal.
“I heard there was some pitiful wretch here who had surgery with no one to sign for her, so I came to watch the fun. Didn’t expect it to be you!”
I ignored her, my gaze instinctively drifting toward the door.
“Looking for Andrius?” She lifted a smug smile. “I wanted pasta from that shop in the east of the city. He worried they’d go cold, so he personally brought the old lady here to cook them for me. Right now, he’s at the hotel next door, overseeing her every move, all for me!”
I closed my eyes, my heart still throbbing painfully after the surgery.
I had once loved that pasta too.
After I became pregnant, one night I craved it unexpectedly. Without hesitation, Andrius had driven off to get it, paying the owner an outrageous sum to wake up, wrap fifty fresh pasta, cook them, and bring them straight back.
“As long as my Maxine wants something, I will give it to you with all my heart.” He had watched me eat, smiling more joyfully than I ever felt. “It’s only you. In this lifetime, I could never be so devoted to anyone else.”
He hadn’t lied; he truly had never treated anyone else like he treated me.
He had only treated Trisha even more indulgently.
Just then, a nurse entered. “Miss Castillo!”
Both Trisha and I turned, our eyes following her.
