Chapter 3

When Michael finally woke up, I was out in the hall taking a call.

It was my mother, asking if there was any way I could pay back a chunk of the fifteen grand we borrowed from my uncle, since he was in a tight spot.

"Mom, I..." I started.

"It's fine. Don't stress," she cut in quickly. "I was just asking. How's Michael doing?"

I explained, "The doctors say any day now. He should wake up soon."

She exclaimed, "Thank God. Just let him wake up."

I hung up and walked back into the room.

Amber was standing by the bed. And Michael's eyes were open.

He was awake.

"Michael!" I gasped and rushed to his side, hot tears instantly spilling down my cheeks. "You're finally awake..."

He looked at me.

His gaze was calm, as if he were looking at a complete stranger.

"You can leave now," he said.

I just stood there, stunned.

"What?" I blurted out.

"I already told my mom everything," he said softly, yet every word was crystal clear. "You can leave now."

I literally thought I was hallucinating.

"Michael, you just woke up. Are you confused?"

"I'm perfectly lucid," he interrupted. "Amanda, we're done."

The room went dead silent. It was suffocating.

I whipped my head to look at his mother.

She was just standing there, staring at the floor, totally mute.

"Amber," I said, my voice shaking, "what is he talking about?"

She let out a heavy sigh. "Amanda, why don't you just step outside for a bit?"

"I am not going anywhere. I want to hear this," I said, locking eyes with Michael. "Leave? What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said," he replied, leaning back against the pillows, looking exhausted. "Let's get a divorce."

In that split second, my mind went white. That familiar ringing returned, louder than ever.

I slept on a bench for thirty-seven nights.

I had sold my condo.

I drained my mother's life savings.

I quit my career.

I burned through $150,000.

After everything I had sacrificed, the very first words out of his mouth were an order for me to go.

"Why?"

My voice cracked, barely a whisper.

"Why? Tell me exactly why."

He wouldn't even look at me. "We're just not a good fit."

"Not a good fit? Why didn't you mention we weren't a good fit before you wrapped your car around a tree? Why didn't you bring that up while you were bleeding out in the ICU?"

"Amanda," Amber finally spoke. "Please, calm down..."

My voice sharpened. "Calm down? Tell me what the hell happened over the last thirty-seven days!"

No one in the room responded.

"Did you orchestrate this?" I growled and glared at her. "Did you whisper something in his ear?"

Her face flushed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

I let out a harsh laugh. "What does it mean? Who signed the surgical consent forms when he was dying? Where were you?"

"We..."

"Who sat outside those ICU doors every single day? Where the hell were you?"

"We..."

"And the money? Who paid the $150,000? Tell me, how much did you contribute?"

Amber's face turned completely red.

"You know our financial situation..."

"Oh, I know," I snapped. "Your family's property is untouchable, but my pre-marital condo is totally fine to liquidate. Your savings are off-limits, but it's fine to gut my mother's retirement money. Trust me, I know."

"You..."

"And I also know," I said, turning my venom back to Michael, "that the very first thing you did when you woke up wasn't to say thank you. It wasn't to ask how I survived the last month. It was to kick me to the curb."

Michael fell silent.

It took him a long time to finally speak, "I'll pay you back the money."

I laughed out loud in the ward. "You'll pay me back?"

"Write down exactly what the condo sold for and how much you borrowed. I'll pay you back in installments."

"Installments?"

I pointed a shaking finger right at his face.

"Michael, I didn't just sell some brick and mortar. I sold the safety net my parents built for me. I sold my family's trust. I threw away my entire career. How exactly are you going to pay that back?"

He didn't answer.

"Tell me," I screamed as the tears finally spilled over, hot and angry. "Were you lying in that coma plotting this? Were you literally just waiting to figure out how to dump me?"

"No," he argued.

"Then why?" I asked.

He looked at me, and there was something in his eyes I couldn't decipher.

"Because you deserve better."

I just froze.

"What?"

"You deserve someone better than me," he said smoothly. "I'm not good enough for you."

The room plunged back into silence.

I stared at him, suddenly struck by how absurdly comical this whole thing was.

"Michael, do you hear the words coming out of your mouth?"

"I do."

"You let me sell my condo, beg for money, lose my job, and sit in a hospital waiting room for over a month, just so you could wake up and pull the 'you deserve better' card?"

He kept silent.

"Do you think handing me that cliché absolves you of the guilt?"

He said nothing.

I took a deep breath and wiped the tears off my face.

I yelled, "Fine."

I spun on my heel and marched out of the room.

Out in the hall, Amber chased after me.

"Amanda! Amanda, don't be rash..."

"Amber," I said and stopped in my tracks. "Tell me right now. What were you guys whispering about while he was in there?"

She couldn't even meet my eyes.

"Nothing..." she mumbled.

"Nothing?" I scoffed. "Then why is his first instinct to boot me out after he wakes up? Did you two plan this all along? You wait for me to drain my accounts, get him back on his feet, and then throw me in the trash?"

"How could you even think such a thing..."

"Then tell me why!"

She opened her mouth but couldn't formulate a single lie.

I stared at her for three agonizing seconds before I turned and headed for the exit.

"Amanda, where are you going?" she asked.

"Home," I replied.

"But what about Michael..."

I paused and shot her a look over my shoulder.

"Didn't he just tell me to leave? I'm leaving. He is officially your problem now."

All the color drained from her face.

I didn't spare her another glance as I pushed through the hospital doors.

That night, I sat alone in a cheap rental apartment all night.

Our actual "home" was a house Michael had bought before we got married, and the thought of stepping foot in it made me sick.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my banking app.

After combining my 20 grand in savings, 100 grand from my mother, and 555 grand from the condo sale, I had a total of six hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars.

Since the ICU, surgery, and rehabilitation costs had already burned through 250 grand, I was left with a balance of roughly 420 grand.