Suzy's POV
When I went to the hospital alone to get a cast, I was used to being by myself.
But when the doctor noticed there was no one with me, he asked, his voice almost too curious, "Ma'am, did you come by yourself? Why didn't you bring any family members?"
I was just about to answer him when I overheard two nurses gossiping as they passed by the door.
"Mr. Maxwell really dotes on his wife. He called all the top doctors in the hospital and booked the entire floor to make sure no one disturbed her while she rested."
The other one said, "You should have seen how anxious he was when he brought her to the hospital. It was as if anything happened to her, he'd go with her."
The nurse with her concurred and even added to it. "And their son, daughter, and grandchildren? Even their daughter-in-law and son-in-law stayed right by Mrs. Maxwell's side, not leaving her for a second, just in case anything happened."
Hearing their words, I looked at my phone and felt my heart sink as I saw that there were no messages or calls.
Then, I turned back to the doctor and forced a smile, even though it felt like my heart had broken a little.
"I don't have any family," I said, my voice soft.
The doctor immediately softened, looking at me with sympathy.
But before he could say anything else, the door slammed open and Franco stormed in. His face was tight with worry, but when he saw me, his expression changed, turning into something colder. He grabbed my wrist roughly, pulling me toward him.
"Ingrid's lost too much blood and needs a transfusion. You both have rare blood types, so you're going to donate to her."
I couldn't believe it.
My head spun as he pulled me toward the operating room.
The doctor looked at me, taking in my pale, worn-out face, and then frowned.
"Ma'am, your health is in poor condition. I'm afraid you can't donate blood."
Franco scoffed, his voice cutting through the room. "Ingrid got hurt because of her. She has to take responsibility."
The doctor looked stunned, his eyes wide. "But if we push her to do the transfusion, she could die from this, Mr. Maxwell!"
Franco didn't even flinch. "Then let her die. I don't fucking care!"
Finally, I was pulled into the operating room, my mind dazed as I watched helplessly while the doctor transfused 1000cc of blood from me into Ingrid's body.
The whole time, I felt like a bystander in my own life, just going through the motions, too numb to stop anything.
For the next three days, Franco didn't check on me once.
He stayed glued to Ingrid's side while Andrew, Karla, and the grandchildren visited her in the hospital. They didn't visit me at all because they simply couldn't be bothered.
...
On the fourth day, I was finally discharged, still feeling lightheaded and exhausted.
As I was paying the bill alone, I ran into Franco and Ingrid in the lobby.
Of course, Franco was helping Ingrid walk, cradling her like she was made of glass.
Meanwhile, Andrew, Karla, Dylan, and Marian trailed behind, all doting on Ingrid like she was the queen of the world.
When they saw me, Franco stopped and walked over.
His face was grim, his words colder than I expected.
"We're divorced now. It's not good for you to stay in the house anymore. Pack your things and move out today."
I didn't even hesitate as I said, "Okay."
Franco looked taken aback by how quickly I agreed, as if he had expected more resistance. Maybe he thought I'd make a scene, try to change his mind.
But I was too tired for that and too tired to fight for someone who'd never fought for me.
Right there, I saw the confusion flicker in his eyes, a slight twinge of guilt maybe, but he quickly covered it up.
He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Ingrid winced, clutching her head.
"Franco, my head hurts so much," she said, her voice trembling.
Without even sparing me a second glance, Franco rushed to her, the rest of the room frozen in concern.
I didn't wait for him.
I spun around and left the hospital immediately, feeling both burdened and oddly free.
When I got home, I started packing my belongings.
I had lived in that house for thirty years, but as I looked around, I realized I didn't have much—just a few clothes and a few memories.
The rest of the house was filled with things for Franco and the kids. They had their needs and wants, and I had given them everything.
As I began sorting through the things I once thought were so important—memories of our kids growing up and small gifts Franco had given me—I discovered a metal box under the bed.
I opened it, and inside, there was a fake rose worth $15 and a pull-tab from a soda can.
I picked up the items, looked at them for a long moment, then went directly to the trash and threw them all away.
I threw away the album, the one I had carefully compiled with all our memories.
When Franco came home, he saw what I was doing.
He frowned, like he couldn't understand what was happening.
"I just asked you to move out. There's no need to throw everything away. After all, we're going to remarry."
I didn't even look up as I replied, "These are old things. They're useless. I threw them away to make room."
Franco looked like he wanted to say something, but before he could, his phone vibrated in his pocket.
He pulled it out and glanced at it.
Ingrid's message.
Suddenly, he seemed to remember why he'd come back.
He turned to me, his voice a little softer, though still guarded. "Ingrid's been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. She has only a month to live. Before she dies, she wants to see the snow mountains in Grandshire. The kids and I are planning to take her there."
Franco paused, his eyes flickering with something unreadable, and then added, "We're divorced now, and if I bring you along, people might gossip. Just stay here. After I fix Maxwell Group, I'll take you anywhere you want to go."
I shook my head, my voice low, but firm. "No need."
Franco furrowed his eyebrows, clearly not hearing me correctly. "What did you say?"
I didn't repeat myself. I just smiled, the kind of smile that didn't reach my eyes.
"Nothing," I said softly.
I wanted to tell him that we no longer have a future together and that he didn't need to explain himself.
That there was nothing left to save between us.
But I couldn't bring myself to say it aloud. It didn't matter anymore.
I had already made my peace.
