His Schedule Had No Time to Save Me—So I Erased Him From My Future

The scraps of my pregnancy test report mixed with the snowmelt and blew away in the downdraft as the helicopter took off. Edward's convoy of armored SUVs was already gone. Only a single white searchlight remained over the wide expanse of tarmac. I called Edward's satellite phone. He declined the call. I tried again. He declined it again. It wasn't until the third attempt that he finally answered. "Jane, what is it this time?" Edward's voice was as cold as ever. In the background, I heard Vivian's frail cry of alarm. "Edward, the turbulence over the Coral Isles is terrifying. I can't breathe." I gripped my phone as pain tore through my stomach. "I'm vomiting blood." "You're only five minutes late, and you're already making up some pathetic lie to get sympathy?" Edward's voice dripped with mockery. "Vivian gets claustrophobic at altitude. I need to calm her down. Call the private doctor yourself." "Help me." I clenched my teeth. Blood dripped from the corner of my mouth onto the phone screen. "My schedule is timed to the second. Since you didn't arrive on time, the resources for this trip have to be reallocated to Vivian." He hung up at exactly three minutes. Not a second more. Not a second less. I lay on the freezing asphalt, my vision fading in and out. This was the man I had loved for 10 years. In his precisely timed plans, he had never spared a single minute to save my life. Then this time, I would remove myself for good from the life plan he valued above everything else. I used the last of my strength to dial 911. The ambulance's wailing siren tore through the Kingsport night. The paramedics lifted me onto a stretcher. The flashing red and blue lights inside the ambulance were so harsh I couldn't keep my eyes open. A paramedic deftly cut through my blood-soaked inner layers. "Blood pressure's dropping! Heart rate's elevated!" The nurse pressed my wrist and asked rapidly, "Where's your family? Do you have an emergency contact?" "No." I closed my eyes. "He doesn't have time." My phone vibrated again. Edward's name flashed on the screen. I stared at it for three seconds, then swiped to answer. "The ramp supervisor at Kingsport International Airport tells me you called an ambulance?" Edward's voice was tight with suppressed anger. Beside him, Vivian offered a defense of me that was all feigned innocence. "Edward, Jane probably just wants you to come back and comfort her. Don't blame her for tying up emergency services." Edward gave a cold snort. "Medical resources aren't there for you to compete for my affection. Cancel the ambulance immediately. Use my black card and go to a private clinic." The ambulance jolted hard. My stomach heaved again. I turned my head and brought up a mouthful of bloody vomit. The nurse cried out and hurriedly pressed an oxygen mask over my face. "I'm not lying." My voice was barely audible through the mask. "The doctor says I have a serious perforation in my stomach." There was a moment of silence on the other end. Then Edward resumed his cold accusations. "If you hadn't been five minutes late, you'd already be getting a full examination at the private hospital in the Coral Isles. Jane, you need to face the consequences of being late." Once again, he ended the call without waiting for me. I pulled off the oxygen mask and stared at the duration of the call on my screen. He had timed this conversation just as precisely. I threw my phone onto the bloodstained stretcher. I gave up on our relationship completely. The emergency room reeked of disinfectant. The monitors gave off shrill alerts. The doctor held my results, expression grim. "Extensive gastric bleeding, with signs of a threatened miscarriage. You need surgery immediately, or both you and the baby could die." I signed my name so hard the pen almost went through the paper. The door to my room was shoved open. Edward's personal assistant, Richard Cole, strode inside. He was carrying a large garment bag with a gold-embossed logo. "Mrs. Kingsley, this is the couture gown Vivian will be wearing to tomorrow night's venture capital reception in the Coral Isles." Richard set the garment bag on my hospital bed without so much as a glance at my pale face. "The gown is a foot too small. Mr. Kingsley has instructed you to contact the private tailor in Kingsport immediately to have it altered, then flown to the Coral Isles by 6 a.m. tomorrow." The doctor's face darkened with fury. Pointing at Richard, the doctor snapped, "We've just declared her to be in critical condition! And you want her to get a gown altered?" Richard's expression didn't change. "Mr. Kingsley says Mrs. Kingsley is best suited to handling these minor tasks. Vivian's public appearance tomorrow evening will affect the group's share price. Nothing can be allowed to go wrong." Richard's phone lit up with a video call from Edward. On the screen, Edward wore a silk robe, with a luxurious suite in the Coral Isles behind him. "Is it taken care of?" "Mrs. Kingsley seems unwilling to cooperate." Richard turned the camera toward me. I stared at the man on the screen, so familiar and yet so alien. "Take it away." My voice was hoarse and flat. "Jane, don't make me say it again." Edward's gaze was cold and hard. "Stop making so much of a minor illness. Vivian is attending the reception in your place and taking on your responsibilities. You should be thanking her." I ripped the tape from the IV on the back of my hand. The bloodied needle fell to the floor. "I said, take it away. I'm under no obligation to wait on your date." Richard stepped forward, trying to force the gown into my hands. As he did, his briefcase hit the floor hard. The zipper burst open. A stack of papers spilled out. The top sheet bore the letterhead of Crown District Private Medical Center. It was a gynecological color Doppler ultrasound report. The patient's name was Vivian. The findings were unmistakable. Early intrauterine pregnancy, 6 weeks' gestation.