18 Missed Calls In Fire, I Left Him

Chapter 2

The door to the hospital room was flung open.

Emily came rushing in.

She was still in her pajamas, with only a coat thrown over them.

She had even lost one of her slippers on the way.

"Sarah."

Seeing me hooked up to the oxygen, her eyes instantly turned red.

"Are you out of your mind? Why didn't you get out when the house caught fire?"

I took off the oxygen mask.

I pointed at my right leg, which was strapped in a splint.

"The doorframe collapsed. It landed on my leg. I couldn't move."

Emily covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

"Where's Miller? Where the hell is that bastard?"

She looked around the room, trying to find him.

"He went to a movie," I said calmly. "With Linda."

Emily was stunned.

She stared at me in disbelief.

"You almost burned to death, and he's out watching a movie with another woman? Didn't you tell him the house was on fire?"

I shook my head.

"He didn't give me the chance to explain. He thought I was making a scene over a few burgers."

Emily was shaking with rage.

She pulled out her phone, ready to dial.

"I'll call him. I want to ask him what's more important: burgers or his wife's life."

I reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Don't call. It doesn't matter anymore."

I looked at Emily.

"Emily, come with me to the house. I need to get a few things."

Emily looked at my calm face and suddenly fell silent.

She knew.

The calmer I was, the more dead set I was on my decision.

At two in the morning, we stood in front of the ruins of what was once called home.

The air was thick with the acrid smell of burnt debris.

The security door, broken open by firefighters, was leaning crookedly to the side.

The sofa in the living room was reduced to a blackened skeleton.

The walls were scorched black.

A water pipe had burst, covering the floor in black, sewage-like water.

I hobbled inside with my crutch, my steps unsteady.

Yesterday morning, I had been standing by the entryway, tugging at Miller's sleeve.

"Miller, the socket in the kitchen keeps sparking. Can you call someone to fix it today?"

Miller was busy putting on his shoes.

He didn't even look up.

"Linda's water pipe burst at her place. She's scared to be alone. I'm going to go check on her first.

"As for the socket, can't you just call the property management yourself?"

I stopped him. "But the property management said it's old indoor wiring that needs a professional electrician. I can't handle that on my own."

Miller shook off my hand impatiently.

"Sarah, can't you be a little more independent? Linda can't even change a light bulb. If I don't go, who will?

"Stop being so selfish and jealous over everything."

He slammed the door on his way out, leaving me alone with that constantly sparking socket.

Now, everything was burned to nothing.

I walked into the bedroom.

From a metal box under the bed, I retrieved my household registration book and ID card, both soaked with water.

Fortunately, I had kept them in a waterproof pouch, so they weren't damaged.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a w******p message from Miller.

A picture.

A new necklace.

Followed by a voice message.

I tapped it.

Miller's deep voice echoed through the empty ruins.

"Linda felt bad and insisted I get you a gift. Isn't this the necklace you've had your eye on for a while?

"I'll have my assistant bring it to you tomorrow.

"Come on. Head home early this afternoon and whip something up. Linda's got a thing for your barbecue ribs."

Emily was standing right there, hearing every word.

She was so angry she let out a bitter laugh.

"Is he out of his mind? The house is burned to this state, and he expects you to go home and cook?"

I stared at the picture of the necklace.

It was the one I had seen last month on our wedding anniversary.

I had stood in front of that shop window for a long time.

Miller had said at the time it was too tacky and not my style.

Yet, he had immediately bought Linda a bracelet from the same brand.

Now, he was using this necklace to brush me off.

It was nothing more than a half-hearted attempt to pacify me.

My fingers hovered over the screen.

I typed a single word in the dialogue box.

OK.

Sent.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket.

"Emily, let's go. This place is no longer livable."

I didn't tell him our home had burned down.