Misrecognizing His Savior, He is Heartbroken After Divorce

On our wedding anniversary, my husband's "true love" was taken hostage by a criminal wielding a knife.

As an emergency doctor, I was called to the scene. But before I could process what was happening, Colin, my husband, pushed me forward.

“Go take Siena’s place,” he ordered. “She’s pregnant. She can’t handle this.”

I bit my lip and didn't listen to him. I couldn't risk my life for his mistress. However, before I knew it, Colin pushed me toward the criminal and swiftly pulled Siena into his arms.

The criminal was shot dead shortly after, but not before his knife pierced deep into my abdomen.

As blood pooled around me, Colin was already carrying Siena in his arms, frantically calling for the obstetricians to check on her.

With all the strength I had left, I managed to whisper, "I’m pregnant too… Please save my baby."

But Colin, with a look of disdain, spat out each word slowly, cutting deeper than the knife ever could:

“Do you even have a brain? Lying about being pregnant just to steal attention from Siena?”

——

His words drained the last bit of light from my eyes.

Siena had only suffered a minor scratch, yet she clung to Colin, melodramatically complaining about stomach pains.

Colin’s eyes were full of concern as he reassured her.

“We need to check Siena first,” he told the doctors firmly. Then he glanced at me and intoned coldly, “If anything happens to her, I’ll take full responsibility. I’m her husband.”

The obstetricians hesitated, looking between me, lying in a pool of blood, and Siena. But Colin’s words were enough. After all, with Colin as the family member taking responsibility, it didn’t matter who they saved.

They hurried to Siena’s side, leaving me behind. It didn’t matter who was truly more injured—Colin had made his decision.

I lay there, slipping in and out of consciousness, watching as Colin tenderly held Siena. His concern for her cut deeper than any wound on my body.

Whispers from the doctors and nurses floated around me, stabbing straight into my heart.

“I can’t believe it. His wife is seriously injured, and he’s fussing over another woman?”

“And she’s not even hurt! It’s just a scratch!”

“Poor thing… What kind of husband ignores his wife like that?”

The pain was overwhelming. Breathing became impossible. I tasted blood in my mouth as I tried to call for help.

Desperately, I grabbed a nurse’s hand. “Please... save my baby,” I whispered, voice trembling with pain and fear.

Before I could say more, the agony from my wound silenced me.

Colin walked past me, cradling Siena in his arms. His face twisted in disgust as he glanced down at me.

“You’re still lying? Even now, trying to steal my attention?”

His voice dripped with contempt. “I told you Siena is pregnant, and now you're claiming to be, too? Competing with her for doctors? Unbelievable.”

He turned to the doctors. “Siena is the real pregnant one. She needs a full exam. Now.”

I could no longer fight back. Blood was filling my lungs, and I let out a small, involuntary groan as a stream of it escaped my lips.

The nurse beside me screamed in alarm. “She’s crashing! This patient won’t make it!”

The doctors surrounding Siena finally rushed to my side.

Colin barely glanced at me, his anger palpable. “How dare you show favoritism! If anything happens to Siena, who will take responsibility?”

His words hung in the air, freezing the doctors in place. Who would risk their careers to go against him?

Everyone moved away, leaving me in the nurse's care, her hands trembling as she held mine tightly.

"Stay with me," she whispered tearfully. "The next ambulance is on its way."

But I could feel myself slipping. My vision blurred, and the world around me faded.

Through the haze, I saw Colin gently place Siena in the ambulance, his arms wrapped protectively around her. He was too busy comforting her, too busy making sure she was alright. Too busy to even glance my way.

He didn’t see the blood pooling beneath me or the life draining from my body.

It wasn’t that Colin was heartless. His heart was just too full—of Siena. There was no room left for me, his wife.

As the ambulance doors closed, he cast a fleeting glance in my direction.

But it was just that—fleeting.

“Eloise,” he said indifferently, “you’ve always been healthy. Hang in there. They’ll come back for you soon.”

Then, without hesitation, he shut the doors, and the ambulance sped off, leaving me behind.

The wail of the sirens faded into the distance as darkness crept in.

I could feel my blood leaving my body, warmth slipping away. Tears welled in my eyes as I lost my grip on consciousness, a single thought echoing through my mind.

Why does it hurt so much…?

After seven years of marriage, and when faced with life and death, Colin chose his first love.

Eloise, is it the knife in your stomach that hurts more, or the gaping wound in your heart?

In a haze, I heard a voice calling me. Slowly, I opened my eyes and realized I was in the emergency room.

"Ms. Cromwell," a familiar voice said softly—it was the young nurse from before, looking downcast.

"Can you contact any other family members?" she asked, her voice low and hesitant. "We've tried calling your husband, but he hasn’t answered. The surgery requires a family member’s signature..."

A sharp pain shot through my chest, but not from my injuries. Colin was probably too busy fussing over Siena to even think of me right now. Why would he bother answering?

"I’ll sign it myself," I murmured, forcing the words out. My hand trembled as I scribbled my name on the paper. Just as I thought I might pass out from the pain, I overheard the nurses talking nearby.

"It’s so unfair, isn’t it? That pregnant woman with the last name West—her husband treats her like a queen," one said in disbelief.

"And here this poor woman is, barely clinging to life, and we can’t even find her family."

Afraid that I might feel worse hearing this, the young nurse quickly interrupted them, her voice thick with emotion. "Stop talking! She can hear you."

But I wasn’t angry; in fact, I found it oddly amusing. If only they knew the 'good husband' they were praising had left his wife to bleed out while rushing to care for another woman—I wonder what they would think.

But none of that mattered now. All I cared about was saving my baby.

As the anesthesia started to take effect, I struggled to stay awake. My eyes found the nurse’s, and with the last bit of strength I had, I whispered, “My baby...”

But before I could finish, darkness overtook me.

...

I didn't know how much time had passed, but when I woke up, my ears were filled with frantic voices. Doctors surrounded me, bright operating room lights glaring down on my pale face.

"The patient is losing too much blood, and the baby’s heartbeat is gone! Call Dr. Levine from obstetrics—now!"

My right hand was still gripped tightly by the young nurse, who whispered, trying to calm me, “It’s going to be okay. Dr. Levine is an expert. She’ll save your baby.”

Her voice trembled, betraying her worry. I nodded weakly, holding on to the hope that my child could still survive.

The sound of hurried footsteps filled the room, and then a nurse’s excited voice rang out, "Dr. Levine is here!"

For a brief moment, relief washed over me.

"...118, 119, the baby's heartbeat has returned!"

The operating room was filled with cheers of relief. But that was short-lived.

A loud, forceful knock came from outside the operating room. The nurse went to check and returned, her face brightening.

"Ms. Cromwell, your husband is here to see you!" she said excitedly.

But before I could even register her words, Colin’s voice cut through the air, sharp and hurried.

"Dr. Levine, my wife is pregnant! She’s in pain—please, you have to check on her now!"

The room fell silent. Dr. Levine’s eyes hardened as she answered firmly, “I’m in the middle of a critical surgery. You’ll have to wait.”

The young nurse holding my hand suddenly stormed out, her anger palpable. "Are you insane?" she shouted at Colin. "Your wife is here fighting for her life, and you’re trying to steal her doctor for someone else?"

Colin’s voice faltered, confused. "Eloise? Eloise Cromwell? She’s the one in surgery?"

Then he laughed—a cruel, sarcastic laugh as he spat, "Don’t be ridiculous. She’s not pregnant. Why would she need an obstetrician?"

He tried to barge in, but the nurses blocked his path. His voice rang out in anger.

"You have no ethics! Neglecting a real pregnant woman—I'm going to report all of you!" he barked.

Tears welled in my eyes, not from the pain but from the realization. Whether I was pregnant or not, if he interrupted the surgery, it could cost me my life. Apparently, to him, my life—and the life of our child—was meaningless. The people fighting to save me were strangers. But my husband, the man I had loved for seven years, didn’t care whether I lived or died.

"She’s losing consciousness! Her blood pressure is plummeting!" someone shouted.

I could hear Colin’s footsteps retreating, leaving me behind, just as he had always done.