I Saved Him, He Used Me— I Take Revenge

Outside Jason Cole's ward, I heard him chatting with his roommate. "Man, you are lucky! Even after surgery, you have someone running around and taking care of everything for you. Not like me. No parents spoiling me, no one fussing over me." I had heard a little about the man in the next bed. He had elderly parents and young children at home. His wife could only come twice a day, and each visit lasted half an hour before she rushed back. It was not easy for them. When I left home that morning, I remembered he probably had not eaten, so I packed an extra serving. My hand had just touched the door handle when I heard him ask again. "But that woman doesn't look like your wife. Who is she to you?" My steps froze. My hand hung stiffly in the air. The hospital room suddenly went quiet. The roommate must have realized how awkward the question sounded, because he quickly tried to smooth things over. "I don't mean anything by it. It is just that you two look a little mismatched." My heart sank, and I touched the left side of my face without thinking. I knew what he meant. In the moment of the crash, I had almost thrown myself forward by instinct and protected Jason's head. When I woke up, my entire face was sticky with blood. The gauze came off layer after layer. Every dressing change hurt so badly that my whole body shook. The doctor looked at me with pity and shook his head. The wound was too deep. A scar was unavoidable. But when I looked at the long scar on my face, all I felt was relief. If a scar was all it cost to save Jason, I would have paid it a thousand times over. Jason, however, held me and cried until he could barely breathe. His face was full of regret and guilt. "Clara, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I got distracted while driving. Don't worry. I owe you my life. If I ever turn my back on you, then I, Jason Cole, will be damned." At the thought, the ache rising in my chest softened into a faint warmth. The next second, Jason's voice drifted out lightly. "What are you thinking? She is just a caregiver I hired." I could almost picture his expression. In that instant, the blood in my body seemed to freeze. I could not believe those words had come from my husband's mouth. A caregiver? He complained that the hospital meals tasted awful, so I woke before dawn every day to make balanced meals for him. I was afraid he would develop bedsores from lying down too long, so I turned him over and wiped his body every half an hour. Jason was tall and strongly built. Every time I helped him turn over, I ended up sweating through my clothes. I knew he cared about appearances, so every other day, I changed him into clean clothes, washed his hair, and kept him neat. Even the nurses had sighed with admiration, saying Jason looked fresh and clean, nothing like a long-term patient. What caregiver would ever take care of a patient with that much devotion? He had clearly promised that he would never look down on me for the rest of his life. It turned out his "rest of his life" was this short. "Then you got a great deal on that caregiver. She works fast and seems hardworking. Unlike me. I can only suffer through it on my own." The roommate sighed on purpose. "Hey, just tell her if you need anything. Have her do it while she is at it. Isn't that what caregivers are hired for?" Jason sounded generous. His casual tone made it seem as if they were talking about the weather. The roommate immediately followed with several flattering comments. Jason clearly enjoyed them and laughed with that affected old money vibe. The two men chatted back and forth, far too comfortably. Only I stood outside the door like a complete joke. "Excuse me." A nurse pushed a medical cart past me and reminded me gently. I had nowhere to hide, so I braced myself and pushed the door open. "Well, there she is," the roommate said when he saw me. He immediately put on a warm smile. "We were just praising how capable you are. Let's see what good food you brought today." I pulled at the corner of my mouth and forced out a polite smile. The breakfast I had packed especially for him was quietly pushed into the cabinet by my hand.