Chapter 1

Zane Frost and I had been in a cold war for two weeks.

I'd already forgotten what started it. We simply weren't speaking to each other.

I ignored his texts and hung up on his calls.

Then, two weeks in, my phone suddenly started blowing up with unknown numbers.

When I finally picked up, a nurse's voice exploded through the line. "Do you even have a heart? Your husband's surgery failed."

I froze. "What surgery?"

The nurse scoffed, "62 calls for a signature, all cut off by some guy. And you, Zane's wife, didn't even know he was admitted?"

My mind went blank as I checked my call history.

All those unfamiliar calls I'd ignored were from the hospital.

*****

Zane and I had been giving each other the silent treatment for half a month.

I'd already forgotten what started it. We simply weren't speaking to each other.

I ignored his texts and sent his calls straight to voicemail.

For half a month, my world was eerily quiet.

Until today, when an unfamiliar number kept blowing up my phone, refusing to give up.

I hung up, but it called right back.

By the third time, I finally picked up, snapping, "Hello?"

There was a burst of noise on the other end, then a young woman's voice yelled, "Yvette? Have you got any conscience at all?"

I froze.

The woman said, "Your husband's surgery went wrong. He's in the ICU right now, fighting to stay alive."

My mind went totally blank. "What surgery?"

I had no idea Zane was sick.

The nurse on the other end let out a cold, piercing laugh that felt like needles in my ears. "Some wife you are. You didn't even know he was admitted?

"We've called you sixty-two times since yesterday afternoon. Every call was to get a family member down here to sign the papers, and every time, a man hung up on us."

A man? My heart skipped a beat.

No, it wasn't some guy. I was the one who hung up.

All those unknown numbers I'd assumed were Zane calling from a new line. I'd declined every single one without a second thought.

The nurse said, "Yvette, listen. If anything happens to the patient, you're the one responsible."

She was still speaking, but her words blurred into noise. I couldn't make out a single word.

My hands were shaking as I opened my call log.

It was a wall of blinding red. Declined. Declined. Declined. Same number, again and again. Two whole pages of it.

The caller ID showed City General Hospital.

My phone slipped from my limp hand and crashed onto the floor. The screen shattered instantly, like my heart.

It felt like my blood froze in that moment, my limbs so cold it was as if I'd been locked inside an ice cave.

I couldn't even remember how I grabbed my phone or dashed out the door.

I ran into the street and flagged down a cab, frantic. "City General Hospital. Go. Please, hurry."

The scenery outside the window sped by in a blur, and my tears finally burst out.

Silent treatment. What a ridiculous phrase.

I couldn't even remember what silly reason started this whole cold war between us.

I think it was something about a partnership file he couldn't find.

He asked if I'd seen it. I told him no.

His tone got sharp. He said it was important and asked me to really think about it.

I felt like he was accusing me, doubting me, and that was how our cold war started.

Thinking about it now, it all seemed so childish and absurd.

A single file. I had pushed my husband to the brink of death over a mere file.

Sixty-two calls. Each one had been a cry for help. Each one, I had cut off with my own hands.

The nurse said it was a man who hung up. But it didn't matter now? Who cared who it was? It changed nothing.

If I had answered even one of those calls, a single one, Zane wouldn't be lying in the ICU.

Tears blurred my vision. I bit my lip so hard, trying to keep myself from sobbing out loud.

The taxi driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, sighed, and quietly sped up.

The City General Hospital building loomed closer with every second, and my heart clenched tighter and tighter.

I prayed silently, 'Zane, please be okay. Wait for me. Please, wait for me.'