Chapter 5

The operating room was colder than the hall outside, a few degrees lower.

Every clink of metal instruments rang out too sharp in the dead silence, the kind of sound that made your scalp crawl.

Rosalie lay on the operating table like a lamb waiting for slaughter.

Her legs were up in the stirrups, shame and fear tangling together until she couldn't stop shaking.

A nurse worked through the prep beside her. Cold liquid swabbed across her skin, raising a layer of goosebumps.

"Try to relax. Once the anesthetic's in, you'll be asleep fast, and when you wake up it'll all be gone."

The nurse's voice was soft, but it landed on Rosalie's heart like a hammer.

When you wake up it'll all be gone.

No children. Nothing left to hold on to. Not even the last thread connecting her to that man.

Was this the ending she wanted?

The anesthesiologist walked over with a syringe. "Miss Henson, are you ready? We're going to begin."

Rosalie opened her mouth to say something, but her throat felt stuffed with cotton, and no sound came out.

She shut her eyes in despair and waited for the needle to sink into her body.

Fragments of her whole life flickered through her mind like film.

The carton of milk Drew handed her back in kindergarten.

The evening wind on the back of his bike in high school.

The tube of lipstick under the streetlight in college, still warm from his hand.

Drew at their wedding, down on one knee, hands trembling as he slid the ring onto her finger, tears shining in his eyes.

"Rosalie, I, Drew Gilbert, swear that if I ever wrong you in this life, let me die a terrible death."

The vow was still ringing in her ears. The two of them had already drifted apart.

"Wait…"

Rosalie's eyes flew open. It was instinct, the regret and struggle of a mind clawing for one last straw.

But the anesthesiologist's needle was already at her skin.

And at that razor's edge of a moment—

"Bang——!!!"

A crash so violent the whole operating room shuddered three times over.

It was the heavy door of the operating room, kicked open from the outside with brute, tearing force.

Every doctor and nurse jumped, their hands freezing mid-motion.

"Who's there! This is an operating room!" the head nurse shrieked in alarm.

Rosalie turned her head with effort toward the door.

For an instant, time seemed to stop.

A man stood in the doorway.

It was Drew Gilbert, the one who had walked out of her life long ago.

But the way he looked now was something Rosalie couldn't recognize at all.

His hair, always combed to perfection, was a wreck, a few strands soaked with sweat and stuck to his forehead.

His costly tailored suit looked like it had been through hell, tie crooked, two shirt buttons burst open, chest heaving as if he'd just run a marathon.

The worst part was his eyes.

Those peach-blossom eyes, usually three parts careless and seven parts tenderness, were now bloodshot red.

Red pushed to the extreme, like a cornered animal, like a man gone mad.

He stared hard at Rosalie on the operating table, and beneath that stare churned fear, regret, and something she couldn't read, something on the verge of breaking apart.

"Mr.… Mr. Gilbert?" Silas nearly dropped the scalpel in his hand.

Drew didn't spare anyone a glance.

He stumbled in, closed the distance to the table in a few strides, and shoved aside the anesthesiologist who was about to inject.

The force in his hands was frightening; the anesthesiologist staggered several steps before catching his balance.

Drew clamped both hands down on the cold edge of the operating table, knuckles going pale from the pressure, the veins on the backs of his hands standing out as if he meant to crush the iron frame.

He was breathing hard, chest heaving, those bloodshot eyes locked on Rosalie's white face as if she'd vanish the moment he blinked.

Rosalie looked at the face so close to hers, her mind blank, her heart slamming like it would leap out of her chest.

How could he be here?

Wasn't it that he didn't want the children?

Wasn't he sick of her?

Drew's throat bobbed hard, over and over, as if swallowing down some enormous pain.

Then, lips trembling, in a voice hoarse to the bone, as if mixed with blood and tears, he roared one sentence at Rosalie.

In that instant.

All Rosalie heard was a ringing in her ears, every other sound gone, only that one sentence tearing round and round through her mind.

She stared, eyes wide, staring at Drew in disbelief, her whole body frozen against the operating table as if she'd been struck by lightning.

In that moment, the world came apart.

Her lips shook, and it was a long time before she found her voice, and even then it came out in pieces.

"You… what did you just say?… That's impossible!…"

"Drew, you're lying to me… how could you lie to me about something like this!!"