Three Years' Farewell

Chapter 1: Shattered Anniversary

The sharp smell of disinfectant rushed up Olivia's nose as she hurried down the hospital corridor.

Cold white lights glared off the polished floor. Her flats slapped against the tiles, too loud in the quiet hallway.

It's our anniversary.

The thought slid through her mind, absurd and out of place. Less than an hour ago, she had been at home in their warm apartment, setting the table for a candlelit dinner. Roasted chicken in the oven, a bottle of red wine breathing on the counter, candles waiting to be lit. She had even written a card and tucked it under Anderson's plate.

Happy third anniversary.

She had glanced at the time on the stove and reached for her phone, expecting to see his name on the screen.

Instead, the caller ID had said: Mom.

Her mother's voice had been shaking. Her father had collapsed at the company. The ambulance had rushed him to City Central Hospital. The doctors were already doing emergency surgery.

The taxi ride had been a blur of red lights and honking horns. She remembered staring out at the dark city while her fingers trembled over her phone, sending Anderson a single message.

Dad's in emergency surgery. I'm going to the hospital. Call me.

No reply had come.

Now she turned a corner and spotted the red “Operating Room" sign glowing above the double doors.

Her mother was there, leaning against the wall outside, clutching a crumpled tissue in one fist.

“Mom!" Olivia hurried over and grabbed her shoulders. “What did the doctor say?"

“They said his heart is very weak," her mother whispered. “They're trying, but… they don't know if he'll survive the night."

Olivia stepped closer to the small window and pressed her palm to the cool glass. Her father lay on the table under the harsh surgical lights, the blue drape pulled to his chest, wires running from his body while doctors and nurses moved around him. His face, always tanned and full of life, looked chalk-white; even his lips had lost their color. The strong hands that used to lift her onto his shoulders and fix anything that broke at home lay limp at his sides.

He had never looked small to her before.

In her mind he was always upright and unshakable, the one who stood in front of their family and never seemed to bend. Seeing him so still on that cold table made something twist hard in her chest. A cold, unfamiliar fear rose inside her.

What if he doesn't wake up?

The thought lodged in her throat like a stone, and for a second her vision blurred. For the first time she felt the world might really keep turning without him in it, and the idea was so wrong it made her knees weak.

“Dad," she breathed.

Her mother clutched her arm. “It's all because of that company."

“What do you mean?" Olivia asked.

“The company has been in trouble for months," her mother said, taking a shaky breath. “Your father hid it from you. The debts kept building. The bank called, suppliers called. Today, a creditor came and threatened to sue, to take everything. Your father got so stressed he clutched his chest and collapsed."

Olivia felt the floor tilt under her feet. “How bad is it?"

“I don't know," her mother said. “Enough that he said if he couldn't solve it soon, we'd lose the house, the company, everything."

“Why didn't he tell me?" Olivia murmured.

“He said you're married now," her mother replied. “He didn't want to burden you."

In three years of marriage, she and Anderson had rarely talked about her parents' finances. He ran one of the biggest companies in the city. Everyone said the same thing:

“You married into the richest family in the city. You're very lucky."

“Mom, listen," Olivia said quietly. “Right now, the important thing is Dad's surgery. The debts—we'll figure them out later, okay?"

Her mother nodded, but her shoulders shook. “The hospital said if we want the best treatment and a room after surgery, it will cost a lot. We have to pay the deposit today."

“How much?" Olivia asked.

Her mother told her. It was more than Olivia could pull together, even if she emptied every account she had.

Olivia took a slow breath. “It's okay. Anderson can help."

Her mother looked up, eyes red. “Will he… agree?"

“Anderson's company has that kind of money," Olivia said. “And I'm his wife. Dad is his father-in-law. He won't just stand by."

She squeezed her mother's hand. “Stay here and wait for the doctor. I'll go find Anderson."

“You're going now?" her mother asked, startled.

“Yes. The sooner we solve the money problem, the better."

Her mother wiped her eyes. “Be careful."

Olivia nodded, hugged her briefly, then hurried down the hallway. At the end of the corridor, she stopped and called Anderson.

The call rang for a long time before going to voicemail.

She hung up and tried again. Still no answer.

Fine. If he wouldn't pick up, she'd go to his office herself.

Outside the hospital, the sky was fully dark. Olivia hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address of Anderson's company. As the car moved through traffic, she stared out the window, fingers tight around her phone.

“Anderson will help," she whispered. “He has to."

When the taxi stopped in front of the tall glass building, it was already past eight. The company logo glowed above the entrance.

She paid the driver and stepped out into the cold air.

The lobby doors slid open as she walked in. The receptionist blinked in surprise, then straightened at once.

“Mrs. Gray," the young woman said quickly. “Good evening."

“Good evening," Olivia said, forcing a small smile. “Is Anderson still upstairs?"

The receptionist glanced at the elevator. “He left a little while ago."

“Left?" Olivia asked. “Did he say where he was going?"

“I'm not sure," the receptionist replied. “He went out with Miss Ava Scott."

The name hit Olivia like a stone to the chest.

Ava.

Anderson's first love.

“Did they say anything?" Olivia asked, her voice thin.

“I only saw Mr. Gray holding the door for her," the receptionist said. “They looked like they were in a hurry."

“I see," Olivia said quietly. “Thank you."

She turned away, her mind buzzing. Maybe it was a business dinner, she told herself. Maybe it was work. Maybe she was overthinking, because she was tired, because today was awful.

She walked toward the entrance, fighting the tightness in her chest.

Through the glass doors, she saw Anderson's car parked near the curb.

And Anderson himself, standing beside the passenger door.

Olivia stopped.

Ava stood next to him in a white dress and light coat. Even from a distance, Olivia saw the way Ava smiled up at him, eyes bright, cheeks slightly pink from the cold.

Anderson held the door open for her, one hand on the frame to shield her head as she bent down.

“Watch your head," he said gently.

Ava laughed. “You're always so careful."

He smiled, the corners of his eyes softening. “Get in."

She slid into the passenger seat. Anderson bent over, leaning in. Olivia watched as he reached across and pulled the seatbelt over Ava, clicking it into place.

Their faces were very close. Ava said something Olivia couldn't hear, her lips curving into a teasing smile. Anderson chuckled, his shoulders relaxing, his expression warm in a way Olivia hadn't seen in a long time.

Then he lifted a hand and brushed a loose strand of hair away from Ava's cheek, tucking it behind her ear. Ava's fingers caught his wrist for a second, light and familiar, before she let go.

The same warmth. The same easy intimacy.

The kind he had once reserved for Olivia.

Olivia stood frozen in the doorway, one hand pressed against the cool glass.

She had come to ask him to help save her father.

He was outside, carefully fastening another woman's seatbelt, his attention entirely on her.

Anderson closed the passenger door with a soft thud and walked around to the driver's side. He opened the door, leaned in to say something that made Ava smile again, then got in and started the engine.

Olivia did not move. She did not call his name.

She only watched in silence as the car pulled away from the curb, the taillights flaring red before merging into the stream of traffic and disappearing into the night.