Chapter 4
"Linda, what are you waiting for?" I said, holding the pen out, daring her to make a move.
My hand didn't even shake as I stared Linda right in the eye, her face twisted with shock and fury.
"Aren't you always the one who claims to love your son most? Now the chance to save him is right in your hands. Why are you hesitating?" I said.
My words pricked her hypocrisy like needles.
Linda's lips quivered as she looked from me to the operating room, her eyes flickering between cold calculation and frantic panic.
"I... I..." she stammered, but couldn't get a single complete sentence out.
"Let's be real, you're scared. If the surgery fails, you'll be the one who signed. You'll carry the blame," I said, spelling out exactly what she didn't dare admit.
Her face went ghostly pale.
By now, the nurses and other patients' families had gathered around, pointing and whispering about us.
"That wife is so cold. Her husband's about to die, and she's still holding a grudge?" one said.
"Didn't you hear? The guy's got another woman, and his mom's covering for him. If it were you, wouldn't you be furious?" another said.
"Still, you can't just stand by and let him die..." a third said.
"I think the mother should sign. Wasn't she the one saying it's normal for a man to 'have his fun?' Well, now he's gotten himself into trouble. Let her be the one to fix it," yet another said.
No one knew who said that last line, but it exploded in Linda's ears like a thunderclap.
She jerked her head up at me, her eyes full of resentment and disbelief.
I met her eyes, speaking slowly, making sure every word hit home.
I said, "Linda, do you remember what you told me three months ago?
"You told me, 'It's normal for a man to have his fun sometimes. It doesn't mean anything. Don't make a scene. Just keep the family together.'
"Well, now your son's little 'fun' has landed him in there with a heart attack.
"You understand him best. You always defended him. So it's only right that you step up now. You take care of it.
"If you won't sign, then who should?"
My voice echoed down the hallway, every word landing like a slap across Linda's face.
Linda swayed on her feet. Her face turned pale, then sallow, then a deep, sick purple.
"You... you..." she stammered, pointing at me, her whole body shaking with rage. "You evil bitch. I'll kill you!"
She lunged at me like a madwoman, trying to snatch the pen from my hand and claw at my face.
I was already on guard. I took a step back and quickly handed the clipboard and pen to the doctor standing next to me.
"Doctor, it's all clear now. I'm his wife, and I'm not signing. His mom's right here. The decision is hers," I said.
With that, I turned and walked away, without even glancing at Linda.
Two nurses held Linda back as she thrashed and screamed. Curses spilled from her mouth.
"Christine, may lightning strike you! You'll die a miserable death. If my son dies, I'll haunt you from my grave," she shrieked.
Laura rushed after me, sobbing, "How can you be so heartless? Don't you care at all? He's your husband."
I kept walking.
Husband?
From the moment I found out about the affair, he stopped being my husband.
He was nothing but a stain now, and the law was the only solvent strong enough to remove him.
I reached the far end of the hallway and turned to watch. A cold spectator to the chaos.
The doctors and nurses surrounded Linda, pleading with her and trying to calm her down.
She was in full meltdown—collapsing to the floor, wailing, then jerking back up—but her hand never reached for the pen.
She was counting on a scene. She thought if she screamed and thrashed enough, I'd cave. That I'd fall back into my old role—the dutiful wife—and clean up a mess I never made.
She was dead wrong.
A heart, once frozen, doesn't thaw.
Finally, the doctor gave her the last warning. If she didn't sign, William would die. Right there. Right then. Her hand, trembling like a leaf, finally reached for the pen.
The moment she signed her name on the consent form, it was as if every ounce of strength had left her. She slumped into the chair, utterly spent.
I watched as the red surgery light flicked on above the operating room doors, completely numb inside.
William, this was what you owed me.
This was for you. And for your mother.