Chapter 1

After three years of a secret marriage, I was just another neighbor in Ethan's contacts—nothing special.

His phone was packed with dozens of emergency contacts marked in red, but I didn't even have his personal number.

When I was on the verge of death after the crash, I saw him speeding by with a young nurse, totally focused on bandaging her finger.

Everyone at the hospital knew Dr. Rivers made exceptions for Nurse Summers, even canceling important surgeries for her.

I woke up in the ICU and quietly pulled out my IV.

But Ethan burst in, his eyes were bloodshot. "Chloe, how dare you leave the hospital without permission!"

"Dr. Rivers," I gave him an even sweeter smile, "I forgot to mention, I was pregnant, but—"

"I just miscarried."

*****

Just before my phone screen went dark, I caught a news alert flashing at the top: "Multiple-vehicle pileup on the city ring highway. Scene is chaotic, casualties unknown."

Out of nowhere, my heart skipped a beat.

It wasn't the news that made my heart race. It was my finger hovering over the screen, over the number etched into my memory, but I hesitated, unable to press call.

Ethan.

My husband.

Legally, at least.

To everyone else, I was just the ordinary neighbor he said didn't matter.

How ridiculous. We'd lived under the same roof for three years, shared the same bed, and yet I wasn't even allowed to have his personal number on speed dial.

His black phone, which he never let out of his sight, was packed with dozens of emergency contacts marked in red—hospital directors, department heads, and even a few names I recognized, those young, cute nurses who often came to see him.

One name, Nina Summers, had been popping up more and more lately.

As for me, Chloe Hart, I probably only had my full name in his contacts, just a cold, formal entry—or more likely, I wasn't even saved at all.

After all, what kind of neighbor would repeatedly call the famous Chief Rivers?

A wave of nausea crashed over me. I clamped a hand over my mouth and rushed to the bathroom, gagging a few times. Nothing came up—just sour acid burning my throat.

This feeling had been haunting me for days. I had a vague suspicion, but I didn't want to dwell on it.

The last time Ethan and I slept together was more than a month ago, the night he stumbled home dead drunk.

No warmth, just a desperate, almost violent need. When it was over, he didn't spare me a glance—just headed straight for the guest room to clean up.

Maybe I should buy a pregnancy test.

But as soon as the thought surfaced, I shoved it away.

'Would it even matter? Tell Ethan?' I thought to myself.

I could already picture his expression—first, stunned, then barely concealed irritation, and finally, he'd toss out a cold, "Get rid of it."

He never let anything unexpected throw off his perfect plans.

And me? I was obviously the biggest mistake in his life, a stain he couldn't wait to wipe away.

Swallowing the bitterness in my chest, I glanced at the time—it was just past four in the afternoon.

Ethan was supposed to be on the day shift today, so technically he should be getting off soon. But with Ethan, things never go by the book.

He was the ace of the emergency center at City General Hospital. The operating room was his kingdom, and it was normal for him to work nonstop for over thirty hours when things got busy.

Waiting for him to come home? Might as well wait for the sun to rise in the west.

The fridge was empty.

Fine, maybe it's a good excuse to get out, get some air, and grab some groceries.

Maybe—just maybe—he'd actually come home for dinner tonight.

Even though I knew it was a long shot, I still clung to that tiny bit of hope, ashamed of myself for it.

For the past three years, that pitiful little hope was all I had to get me through each day.

As I grabbed the keys from the entryway, my eyes landed on the top shelf of the shoe cabinet—a dusty box, long forgotten.

Inside was our marriage certificate. That bright red cover felt like a slap in the face.

The day we got that certificate was just as gray and dreary.

After he signed the papers, he didn't even bother to stay a second longer. He just tossed out, "Don't tell anyone. It'll cause trouble."

Then he left me standing alone at the entrance of the civil affairs office, driving off to the hospital for a "very important" emergency surgery.

From that day on, I knew I'd always be his lowest priority in Ethan's world.

No, maybe I didn't even make the cut.

I took a deep breath, fighting back the ache in my nose, and pushed the door open to step outside.

The air was thick and stifling, the sky heavy with dark clouds, like rain was about to pour down.

I grabbed some basic groceries at the supermarket, and sure enough, by the time I stepped outside, the sky was already drizzling. The drizzle quickly turned into a steady downpour.

I didn't bring an umbrella, so I stood by the curb, trying to flag down a cab. Rush hour and rain—good luck finding a taxi.

The rain blurred my vision, and I anxiously scanned the passing cars.

Then, a familiar black SUV rolled up in the distance. My heart jumped—it was Ethan Rivers.

'Is he off work? Is he heading home?' I wondered, hope flickering inside me.

Almost without thinking, I stepped forward, raising my hand, hoping he'd see me.

But the car didn't even bother to slow down or pull over. It just cruised right past in the middle lane, nowhere near the bus stop where I was standing.

Through the rain-streaked window, the blurry figure in the passenger seat stabbed right through me like a red-hot dagger.

It was a woman. Young, with long hair, her face angled toward Ethan as she talked to him.

And Ethan, driving, turned his head slightly to listen. Was that tenderness in his profile? Something I'd never seen before.

It felt like an invisible hand was crushing my heart, the pain so sharp I doubled over. The grocery bag slipped from my fingers, tomatoes and potatoes tumbling everywhere, splashing into muddy puddles—just like my mess of a life.

'He's not coming home.' I realized, the thought hitting me like a slap.

'Turns out, he can leave work early—just never for me.' I thought bitterly.

'He can be gentle, but he's never spared me a single ounce of it.' The truth stung.

The icy rain drenched my hair and clothes, the cold sinking deep into my bones, leaving me shivering and helpless.

I stood frozen, watching the car carrying my husband and another woman vanish into the rain and traffic, feeling like my whole world was spinning out of control, collapsing around me.

So this is what it feels like—your heart can shatter in just one instant.

I had no idea how long I stood there in the rain, lost in my own misery, until a speeding car splashed a wave of muddy water all over me, snapping me back to reality.

I picked up the scattered, muddy grocery bag and drifted across the street like a ghost, heading for the bus stop—hoping to just disappear back home.

'Home? That cold, empty house—can I even call it home?' I thought bitterly.

My mind was a tangled mess, Ethan's softened profile and the image of that young woman looping endlessly in my thoughts.

'Was it Nina? It had to be her. Everyone at the hospital said Chief Rivers was especially attentive to the new trainee nurse, Nina Summers.'

I was so out of it, I forgot even the basics of traffic safety.

By the time I realized the blinding headlights and the blaring horn were right in front of me, it was already too late.

Crash!

A massive impact slammed into my side, the world spun out of control, and pain ripped through me like I was being torn to shreds.

As everything blurred, I felt myself being hoisted onto a stretcher, surrounded by a jumble of voices and the shriek of ambulance sirens.

Every inch of me hurt, and a cold seeped deep into my bones—a cold that felt bottomless, swallowing me whole.

'Am I dying?' I wondered, panic clawing at me.

'No, I can't die.' I told myself, desperately refusing to let go.

If I died, Ethan would probably just feel relieved. Maybe he'd even think it was a hassle to deal with the mess I left behind.

A surge of resentment and sheer stubbornness kept me going. With my last bit of strength, I fumbled in my pocket for my phone, its screen already shattered.

Muscle memory took over as I dialed the number I knew by heart, but never had the guts to call.

It was Ethan's work number. I never even knew his personal one.

The call went through, but all I got was that endless, torturous dial tone—each ring slicing away at what little hope I had left.

Just when I thought he'd never pick up, the call finally connected. But nobody said a word—just the faint sound of music from the car, and a woman's voice, teasing, almost childishly complaining.

"Dr. Rivers, it hurts so much Will it leave a scar?"

Then came the voice I knew all too well, but now it was cold and impatient, with a trace of annoyance, almost dismissive. "Don't move. It's just a scratch. Just disinfect and wrap it up. I'm driving, so stop fussing."

So he picked up, but he didn't even want to talk to me.

Turns out, he was busy tending to a scratch on the woman in the passenger seat.

And me, his wife, was lying in a freezing ambulance, my life slipping away with every passing second.

A crushing sense of despair and absurdity overwhelmed me.

I tried to make a sound, even just a desperate "help," but all that came up was a metallic, coppery taste in my throat.

The ambulance jolted, and my head turned toward the window.

In that instant, a familiar black SUV nearly sideswiped our ambulance as it sped past.

Through the half-open window, I saw everything crystal clear.

Ethan was leaning over in the driver's seat, carefully holding Nina' hand in the passenger seat, gently applying antiseptic to her finger with a cotton swab. His face was so focused, but there was a nervousness and worry there—a kind of flustered panic I'd never seen from him before.

Was it because of her injury? Or was he just afraid she'd hurt?

So he could get anxious, he could panic.

Just never for me.

"Patient's blood pressure is dropping! Prep the epinephrine!"

"Hang in there!"

The voices of the medical staff became a distant echo.

All I could hear was Nina's voice on the other end of the line, soft and whimpering, with a hint of flirtation. "Dr. Rivers, you're so good to me I'm so glad you're here"

Then Ethan's low, comforting voice: "It's okay now."

My world went completely dark.

So that's how it is. His emergency contacts go on and on, but my name was never there.

His list of priorities was short—and I was always dead last.

No, I wasn't even on it at all.