Chapter 4

The next morning Hugh didn't go to the hospital, and he didn't come back after moving the last of the things either.

A little after ten, while I was sorting files at the office, Marianne suddenly called.

She was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

"Zoe, Hugh collapsed."

"He coughed up so much blood just now."

"Come to the hospital, quick, he keeps calling for you…"

The papers in my hand scattered across the floor, and for that instant nothing else mattered.

I flagged down a cab and rushed to the hospital.

In the ER corridor, Marianne sat huddled in a chair, her face ghostly white.

The moment she saw me she threw herself at me and grabbed my hands.

"It's all my fault."

"If Hugh hadn't insisted on going to the studio with me, he wouldn't have collapsed like that."

I couldn't be bothered with her, and went straight to the door of the resuscitation room.

On the bed lay Hugh, an oxygen tube in his nose, his face drained of all color.

A doctor came out holding the test results and asked who was family to the Gilberts.

I had barely opened my mouth when Silvia Gilbert came charging out of the elevator.

"I'm his mother."

The doctor nodded.

"There's a mass in the patient's lung. It doesn't look good."

"Our preliminary read is that it's very likely malignant."

"We recommend admitting him immediately and doing a biopsy and pathology as soon as possible."

Silvia's legs buckled and she swayed, then clamped down hard on my arm.

"Zoe, aren't you about to marry Hugh?"

"You can't just abandon him now."

"That apartment your parents left you, could you think of something with it first?"

"Treating Hugh's illness will cost hundreds of thousands at the very least, and more than a million won't be enough to stop it."

A chill ran through me, and all those IOUs and mortgage contracts from my past life came crowding back into my head.

A full 1.7 million. I sold my jewelry and mortgaged the apartment.

Knelt at relatives' doors and got screamed at with fingers jabbed in my face, and in the end all I got for it was that one line of regret on Hugh's phone.

If only I'd married you back then.

"Silvia." My lips were bloodless.

"The pathology isn't back yet, it's not for certain…"

"Not certain how?" Silvia cut me off through her tears.

"The doctor already said it. How can you still be this calm?"

"You and Hugh have been together all these years. He's in trouble, and you're not going to help him?"

On the bed, Hugh slowly opened his eyes, and a flicker of panic crossed his face when he saw me.

"Mom." His voice was hoarse.

"Don't push Zoe."

Silvia froze where she stood, and my heart lurched too.

I thought he had finally learned to protect me.

The next second he turned his head toward Marianne, huddled in the corner.

"Why are you still here?"

"Didn't I tell you to go home?"

Marianne shook her head, her eyes rimmed red.

"I'm not leaving."

"I was scared something would happen to you."

Hugh lifted his hand and touched the back of hers.

"Don't be scared."

"It's not your fault."

Then he turned to me again, his voice soft but carrying an instruction that left no room for refusal.

"Zozo, Mari got a terrible fright today."

"Take her home first."

"My mom being here is enough."

Standing in that room, my tears spilled over at once.

He was lying there that sick, and the first thing on his mind was still whether Marianne was frightened.

He even took it for granted that I would look after Marianne for him.

Just like in my past life, running to hospitals for him, borrowing money, selling the apartment, holding together every mess.

And in the end all I got was waiting for him to sit there regretting he hadn't married someone else.

I wiped my tears away hard. "Hugh."

He looked at me. I asked,

"If it were me lying here today."

"If Marianne were scared, would you still tell me to take her home first?"

Hugh knitted his brows.

"Why are you saying this kind of thing again?"

"I'm in this state now, and you still want to make a scene with me?"

That line snapped the last thread of hope inside me.

I took the ring out of my bag.

I'd been gripping the box for two days, and the corners had gone soft.

I walked to the bed and set it down beside Hugh's hand.

"I'm not making a scene."

"I've just finally understood."

"You never once treated me as the most important person to you."

Hugh's face changed completely. He tried to sit up, but it pulled at his chest and set him coughing until his whole body shook.

"Zoe, don't go."

He clamped down on my wrist, but his grip was weak, drained of strength.

Nothing left of the confident man he used to be.

Looking at him, my heart still ached, because I had loved him for so many years.

Even having died once and known the ending, one word asking me to stay could still make me want to turn back.

But then Marianne suddenly cried out through her sobs.

"Hugh, don't move."

Hugh let go of me at once and turned to soothe her.

"It's okay."

"Don't cry."

I pulled my hand free, turned, and walked out of the room in long strides.

Behind me, no one came after me.

At four in the afternoon I got home and didn't take much with me.

Only my documents, bank cards, and clothes, and the photo my mother had left behind.

Nanette called.

"Zoe, the Harbor City project needs someone there tonight."

"Can you make the 8:30 bullet train?"

I looked around the empty living room and answered quietly, "Yes."

At eight twenty that night, the gate light at the station turned green.

My phone kept ringing. Hugh had called more than a dozen times in a row.

Finally he sent a voice message.

"Zoe, the doctor says I have to be admitted."

"Where on earth have you gone?"

"You can't abandon me at a time like this."

I listened to it, then stood there a long while before pressing the power button off.

Once, I had walked into a marriage and trapped myself at Hugh's side.

And this time, the train doors slid slowly open.

I dragged my suitcase and walked in without slowing my stride.