The Day He Didn't Come

Chapter Two

Isabella

​The harsh smell of antiseptic and the rhythmic, annoying beep of a heart monitor brought me back to reality, and when I slowly opened my eyes, the bright fluorescent lights of St. Jude’s Hospital made my head throb with an intense pressure that matched the sharp pain radiating across my stitched abdomen. I tried to shift my weight to get more comfortable, but a heavy groan escaped my lips instead, which immediately brought a young nurse rushing over to my bedside with a warm, relieved look on her face.

​"Oh, Dr. Vale, you are finally awake, please try not to move too much because you just came out of emergency surgery for a ruptured appendix about three hours ago, and you lost quite a bit of blood before the paramedics managed to get you into the operating room," she said, checking the IV line connected to the back of my hand before adjusting the fluid rate.

​"Thank you, Sarah, I still feel a bit detached from everything, but who was the attending surgeon on my case, and does my husband know that I am here in the recovery ward?" I asked, my voice sounding incredibly raspy and thin as I looked around the empty, private room that felt far too large for just one person.

​"Dr. Aris handled the procedure because he was the chief on call last night, but Dr. Laurent hasn't checked in yet, though I am sure he is just finishing up his morning rounds on the neurology floor and will be down the moment he hears the news," Sarah replied, giving me a reassuring pat on the arm before she picked up her clipboard to note down my vitals.

​"He doesn't know, does he, because nobody actually called his office to tell him that his own wife was rushed into his own hospital in the middle of the night?" I murmured, the bitter reality settling into my chest without much surprise because this was simply how our lives functioned now.

​"Well, the trauma team was so focused on stabilizing your vitals that I assumed someone from administration had reached out to him, but let me go find him myself and tell him that you are conscious now," she said, looking a little flustered as she hurried out into the hallway, leaving me alone with the steady, lonely sound of the monitor.

​Nearly forty-five minutes passed before the door swung open with a sudden, aggressive force, and Adrian walked in with his white coat flapping behind him, his brow furrowed in deep irritation rather than the frantic worry that a normal husband would show after finding out his wife almost died.

​"Isabella, what on earth happened to you, and why am I just finding out from a random floor nurse that you were admitted into trauma while I was busy preparing for a major lecture this morning?" he demanded, stopping at the foot of my bed with his arms tightly crossed over his chest, his entire demeanor radiating annoyance.

​"My appendix ruptured while I was driving home from the restaurant where I waited for you for three hours, Adrian, and I barely managed to pull over before I lost consciousness from the pain," I explained, keeping my voice completely level and detached because I didn't have the energy to argue or cry over his lack of empathy anymore.

​"And you couldn't have sent me a simple text message telling me that you were feeling sick before it reached that point, because you know how busy my schedule is, and instead of communicating like an adult, you kept it to yourself and caused a massive scene that makes me look incredibly incompetent to my colleagues," he snapped, his voice rising in irritation as he stepped closer to the bed, completely ignoring the pale state of my face or the fresh bandages covering my torso.

​"I did text you, Adrian, I told you that I understood your emergency, but you were too busy taking care of Celeste Moreau at a charity gala to notice that your own wife was bleeding out on the side of the highway," I replied, the words coming out cold and sharp, though my heart didn't even accelerate because the disappointment was so familiar by now.

​"Celeste was having a severe panic attack because of the paparazzi, and as her doctor, it was my absolute responsibility to ensure she made it out of that venue safely, so I really do not appreciate you throwing that in my face when I was simply doing my job," he defended himself, his jaw tightening as he looked down at me with absolute defiance, completely convinced that he was the victim of the situation.

​"You always have a perfectly logical explanation for why everyone else comes before me, Adrian, but the truth is that you didn't even notice my absence at home this morning because you don't actually care if I am there or not," I said, turning my head toward the window to look at the gray skyline because his defensive posture was starting to make me feel physically sick.

​"That is entirely unfair, Isabella, because I work eighty hours a week to provide this lifestyle for us, and I cannot constantly guess what is wrong with you if you refuse to speak up, so stop acting like I abandoned you on purpose when I literally had no idea you were even unwell," he muttered, checked his watch with an impatient gesture, and sighed loudly before turning back toward the doorway.

​"I need to go sign off on some patient charts on the fourth floor, but I will be back in an hour to talk about this properly when you are less emotional and ready to have a rational conversation," he added, not even bothering to lean down and kiss my forehead before he stepped out into the corridor and closed the door behind him.

​I lay perfectly still for a few minutes, listening to the muffled sounds of the hospital hallway, but when I realized he hadn't actually walked away yet, I carefully pushed myself up against the pillows to hear what was keeping him right outside my room. Through the thin pane of glass in the door, his deep, soothing voice carried clearly into the quiet space of my ward, and the tenderness in his tone was something I hadn't heard directed at myself in over five years.

​"Hey, Celeste, yes, I am still at the clinic but I wanted to check in and see how you are feeling after last night, because you seemed so fragile when I dropped you off at your apartment, and I want to make sure you are resting properly today," Adrian said, his voice dropping into a gentle, protective murmur that cut through the silence of my recovery room like a blade. "Don't worry about my schedule at all, because your health is my main priority right now, so if you need me to come over later this evening to bring you some fresh fluids or just to sit with you, I will make sure to clear my entire afternoon for you.”