He Ignored My Miscarriage, I Cut Him Off

Chapter 3

"Mr. Cole, we should go. The business partner said he wants to thank us properly."

Vanessa held her watch up for Adrian to see without giving me a single glance.

Adrian nodded and started toward the exit. He looked back at me, still rooted to the spot, and pressed his lips together.

"Dr. Mercer will be here soon. Your mom can wait a little longer."

"Adrian, is 'first come first served' really that important to you?"

I leaned against the window, watching Ryan rush inside with several doctors. I wiped at the tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

Adrian instinctively reached for a tissue, but when he saw that I was waiting for an answer, his fingers curled around it.

"Yes. Rules are what keep things in order. If it's your turn to wait, you wait. No one gets to be the exception."

'No exceptions, huh.'

The first time I brought him home to meet my mother, he had been so nervous downstairs that he rehearsed his greeting 30 times. Then, realizing he was late, he rushed upstairs in such a panic that he had his shoes on the wrong feet.

My mother had smiled at him.

"We don't have that many rules in this family. Don't rush. Take your time."

He had nodded eagerly.

"Right. There are no rules at home. Family is always the exception."

Now the man who had once said family was always the exception had pulled my mother's chief surgeon away and was lecturing me about rules.

Adrian finally pressed the packet of tissues into my hand, then reached over and wiped away the last tear at the corner of my eye.

"We'll talk about everything when I get back. I have to meet the business partner first."

By the time the elevator doors opened again after Adrian left, the doctors Ryan had brought had already rushed into the operating room.

I looked at Ryan, drenched in sweat and still forcing a smile to reassure me. The last shred of hesitation I still had about Adrian disappeared.

So the first-come, first-served rule really was that important. It was important enough to determine how quickly my mother received the care that might save her life.

"Ryan, if I get divorced, will you marry me?"

Ryan went rigid, sweat still rolling down his face.

"Yes. As long as it's you, the answer is yes. No matter when you ask, I'll wait for you."

My smile slowly widened, but the moment I turned my head away, tears spilled down my cheeks.

I finally understood that first come, first served wasn't only about who arrived first. Someone who came later could still become the person you couldn't look away from.

"I'm sorry. We did everything we could."

The instant the operating-room light went dark, my legs gave out. No matter how hard Ryan tried to help me up, I couldn't stand.

My mother's wake lasted 3 days. During those 3 days, I called Adrian 120 times. By the end, all I ever heard was the busy signal.

He didn't rush back until the day my mother was buried.

"How could you not tell me something this serious had happened?"

"I didn't tell you? You were the one who refused to answer my calls!"

Adrian swallowed hard, then turned his face away without a word.

"I was just busy. Everything has an order. First come, first served."

"My mother's surgery had to wait. Now even her funeral has to wait too? You keep saying you were busy. Busy doing what?"

I watched one shovelful of dirt after another fall onto the grave and suddenly didn't have the strength to listen to another excuse.

"Forget it. I don't want to hear it anymore."

Over those 3 days, every time I called Adrian, Vanessa sent me a photo.

There were pictures of the two of them eating together, riding a Ferris wheel, and sitting alone together in the same room.

I could make 120 calls and keep going, but 120 photographs were sickly enough.

"The funeral procession is starting."

Adrian instinctively stepped forward. I looked at him once, then took Ryan by the hand and led him to the front.

Vanessa's frown vanished at once, though she quickly pulled the corners of her mouth down into a show of disapproval.

"You're supposed to be at the front of the funeral procession with your husband. Mr. Cole is right here. Why are you letting another man take his place?"

"Katherine, this joke has gone too far," Adrian finally snapped out of his daze. He straightened his collar and stepped forward. "Start over."

"No. First come, first served. You came later."

His hand froze halfway through straightening his collar. I turned away, took Ryan's hand, and stepped forward with him to pay our respects at my mother's grave.

Adrian's face darkened. He reached for me, but Ryan blocked him.

"Katherine, is this really the time to start talking about rules?"

"Then when is the time? When my mother needs money for surgery? When she needs her lead surgeon?"

I looked back at his unshaven face and felt completely calm.

Adrian opened his mouth, but no words came. He stood frozen until the headstone was set in place. Then he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.

"We're husband and wife. We're family. We shouldn't be talking about rules between us."

I looked at the new headstone. My fingertips felt even colder than the stone.

When I asked him to take me to the hospital, he had talked about rules.

When I asked if we could get our marriage certificate first, he had said first come, first served.

Even when my mother needed money for surgery, and even at her funeral, he insisted on rules. But now that he was the one who came last, suddenly family wasn't supposed to be about rules.

"We won't be family much longer."

I pulled off my wedding ring and threw it to the ground. A faint trace of redness still lingered at the corners of my eyes.

"Adrian, I want a divorce."

"What are you talking about? We can argue all we want, but how can you joke about divorce?"

Adrian hurriedly picked the ring up from the dirt, wiped it clean, and tried to put it back on my finger.

I pulled my hand away. His hand, still holding the ring, remained suspended in midair for a long time before he slowly drew it back and slipped it into his breast pocket.

"You're angry right now. We'll talk after you calm down. If we really went by your first-come, first-served logic, you wouldn't have been the woman I married in the first place. But you are my wife. Doesn't that prove how serious I was about you?"

'But by that same first come, first served logic, you shouldn't have been the man I married either.'

I lowered my gaze, letting it rest briefly on his breast pocket. My voice came out hoarse.

"You..."

"Mr. Cole, my stomach hurts so much. I think my period started."

Vanessa crouched down with both hands over her stomach, though there was not a trace of pain on her face.

Adrian spun around, scooped her up, and rushed off. Before he left, he met my eyes and pressed his lips together.

"Vanessa isn't feeling well. I'll take her to the hospital first. I won't be able to stay for your mom's final graveside service, and whatever we need to discuss can wait until later."

"What happened to first come, first served? Didn't my mother's final graveside service come first? Or do I simply come last with you no matter what?"

"Katherine, can you stop blowing everything out of proportion? You can't make someone who's sick wait."

'Then why did my mother and I have to wait when we were sick enough to die?'

Adrian took a step, then stopped with his lips pressed shut. In the end, all he said was, "I'll explain when I get back."

I watched Vanessa turn her head and flash me a triumphant smile. I raised my phone, gripping it so tightly my knuckles turned white.

"Ms. Cross, I'm ready. Let's go ahead and file for divorce."

"But... I checked the system over the past few days. You and Mr. Cole were never legally married. The marriage record lists a woman named Vanessa Lane."

I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice caught in my throat as tears blurred my vision.

Another message from Vanessa appeared on my phone.

Vanessa: No need for a divorce. First come, first served. Adrian and I got our marriage certificate 7 years ago. The reason he put off getting a marriage certificate with you that day was that the fake clerk's office wasn't finished yet.

I looked up into Ryan's worried eyes. My voice was still choked with sobs, but the words came out clear.

"That's fine. At least I can skip the divorce prosedure. Let's go get married tomorrow."

The next day, Ryan and I stood outside the clerk's office holding our real marriage certificate. I tore the fake one to pieces and threw it into the trash.

"Katherine! You married me first. What do you think you're doing?"