Chapter 2 - The Emergency Contact
Within minutes, Sophie disappeared behind double doors.
I followed until a nurse blocked me.
“Sir, you need to wait here.”
“I’m staying.”
“Are you her husband?”
The answer caught in my throat.
“No.”
“Then unless she authorized you—”
A second nurse appeared holding Sophie’s chart.
“Ethan Parker?”
I turned.
“Yes.”
“You’re listed as her emergency contact.”
I stared at her.
“That has to be old.”
The nurse checked again.
“It was confirmed six weeks ago.”
Six weeks.
After the divorce.
Sophie had deliberately left my name there.
I didn’t know whether that should give me hope or destroy me.
Dr. Nathan Patel came out twenty minutes later.
He was probably in his forties, with tired eyes and the controlled calm of someone accustomed to delivering frightening news.
“Sophie has neutropenic fever.”
“What does that mean?”
“Her immune system is severely suppressed from chemotherapy.”
He explained that they were starting IV antibiotics immediately.
He said words like cultures, white cell count, observation, and possible admission.
I understood every word individually.
Together, they sounded like a foreign language.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“We caught it.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Dr. Patel studied me.
“We’re treating it aggressively.”
It was the kind of answer officers gave when the truth wasn’t guaranteed.
I hated hearing my own language used against me.
“Can I see her?”
“If she agrees.”
Twenty minutes later, I stepped inside.
Sophie lay beneath a white blanket.
Her face looked even paler against the pillow.
“You’re still here.”
“I’m not leaving.”
A trace of irritation crossed her face.
“You already did that once.”
I accepted the hit.
“I deserved that.”
She looked toward the window.
“I don’t need guilt sitting beside my bed.”
“This isn’t guilt.”
“What is it?”
I almost said love.
Once again, fear stopped me.
Sophie noticed.
Of course she did.
“You still can’t say it.”
I pulled the chair closer.
“I don’t know what I’m allowed to say anymore.”
She turned toward me.
“For once in your life, stop worrying about what you’re allowed to do.”
Her voice cracked.
“Say what’s true.”
So I did.
“I never stopped loving you.”
The room became silent.
Sophie closed her eyes.
A tear escaped beneath one eyelid.
“That would have been useful information before the divorce.”
“I know.”
She opened her eyes again.
“Love didn’t save us, Ethan.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“But maybe honesty could have.”
Before she could answer, my phone vibrated.
The display showed headquarters.
Brigadier General Lawson.
I declined the call.
Sophie noticed.
“You should answer.”
“No.”
“It could be important.”
I looked at her.
“So are you.”
Her expression shifted.
Just slightly.
Then my phone vibrated again.
This time a message appeared.
May you like
REPORT IMMEDIATELY.
And for the first time in my career, I looked at an order and wanted to ignore it.
