"Are you the patient's family? This is the critical condition notice—sign it, now!"
The doors to the OR slammed open, and the doctor coldly shoved a form at him.
"I'm… her husband."
The word "husband" slipped out before Ethan even thought about it. He clutched the briefcase under his arm a little tighter.
Inside it, still warm from his grip, was the divorce agreement—some bitter irony packed in those pages.
"What happened to my wife? Why is she in critical condition?"
"We're still figuring that out. Her oxygen saturation is dropping fast, and her cardiopulmonary function is failing. We need to do an emergency thoracic drainage. Since you're her husband, do you know if she had any medical history we should be aware of? Speak up now—we’ll call in our top cardiac surgeons for a consult."
Ethan just froze, blank eyes staring ahead like his mind had gone completely silent.
How had he never re

“Emma, you're awake?”
After the surgery, Emma blinked open her weary eyes, her blurred vision resting on a face she hadn’t seen in a while—calm, familiar, and steady.
“David... you’re back?”
Her lips were dry and cracked, but she still tried to force out a small smile. Yet no matter how hard she hid it, her pale, fragile look only made David’s heart ache more.
“I’m sorry. I was stuck overseas on a case when your dad passed. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”
“I’m okay...” Emma shook her head faintly. “How... how long was I out for? Have you been...”
Floating between consciousness and dreams, she vaguely recalled hearing Ethan shouting like he’d lost it.
She wasn’t sure if it was a cry of regret or just rage. But the moment she saw David, all the messy emotions in her heart slowly settled down.
“He left right after I showed up,” David said softly, helping Emma sit up and giving her 

Clara’s face changed in a flash, and she shrank back like a startled bird.
"Ethan! You’re here! Please, help me talk to Emma. She insisted on helping me put on my shoes, but I can manage just fine... and I’m super ticklish..."
Ethan didn’t say a word.
Honestly, if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t believe the cheerful, confident Clara could act so rough.
Emma stayed silent too. She just threw the bag by the trash can near the door, then turned to leave.
“Emma!” Ethan quickly followed her out.
“Ethan!” Seeing things weren’t going her way, Clara jumped off the hospital bed and pulled off a dramatic fake fall—
She totally thought Ethan would turn around and catch her.
Yeah, no. Totally miscalculated.
“Emma, stop right there!”
Ethan shoved his palm between the closing doors of the elevator and slipped inside like a fish.
There was a dull “clang” as his thumb got caught—he grimaced without meaning to.
Emma glanced back and gave a sigh. “What are you chasing me for? I’m not running away. Go back and keep Clara company. I'll wait for you downstairs at the café.”
“You...” Ethan was at a loss for words.
It was like he’d developed some weird habit—couldn’t talk to Emma properly unless he was yelling.
In this moment, he felt like he should say something different. Something real. But the words just stuck in his throat, awkward and wrong.
“You don’t have to force it.” Emma gave a small smile. “If you need to convince yourself there’s nothing wrong between you and Clara, then tell yourself whatever helps you sleep. Clara lost her baby, and sure, I had a part in it. So it’s only fair if she lashes out at me, right?
But hey, there’re security cameras outside the room. You can check how we got along the past few days if you want. Or not. Doesn’t matter. I just wanted you to know—girls like Sophie are hard to come by. Clara is just Clara. Don’t get your hopes up too high…”
“Emma, that’s not—” Ethan swallowed thickly, stepping toward her and reaching for her wrist.
She slipped out of his grasp, not quickly, but like she’d already set up walls in her heart.
“I know. You came to get this.”Emma pulled open her bag and took out a bunch of papers.
"I retyped it for you."
Ethan remembered—the last copy had been stained with blood.
"I’ve... already signed it. Just have someone scan it and send it to Mr. Brown."
Ethan paused, eyes finally stopping at the clean strokes of her name at the bottom of the page—
Flawlessly written, not the slightest bit of hesitation. Just like the first time she signed those divorce papers—resolute and unflinching.
As he reached out to take the document, the moment his fingers brushed the white paper, a sharp pain jabbed at his chest.
Turns out, he never really understood Emma.
But Emma didn’t let go. Just as the elevator neared its destination, the two of them clung to the authorization letter in a strange, silent tug-of-war.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, totally confused by what she was trying to do.
"You sign too. I’ll give it to you after that."
Emma gave a small smile, her eyes quietly warming with calm acceptance.
That’s when Ethan saw what lay behind the thin sheet of paper—two unsigned divorce agreements. The same ones he had stashed in the drawer by his bed for over two weeks.
"You..."
"Ethan, let me go," Emma said softly.
His hand holding the pen began to tremble uncontrollably. The last time it shook like this... was when he lifted the white cloth off Sophie.
The elevator doors finally opened. Sunlight poured in, warm and generous, as if trying to comfort every heart that had gone unloved.
Emma tilted her head up, shutting her eyes.
With the final divorce papers in her hand, something in her heart felt lighter—as if a huge weight had been lifted.
She wasn’t sure how much time she had left, but there were still so many things she wanted to do.
Maybe go sit in on a few classes at the university she'd always dreamed of? Maybe go to Sophie’s hometown, that little village in the mountains—poor, but quiet and full of warmth—and try her hand at teaching?
The only thing she regretted... was that she’d never get to fulfill that one promise.
She stepped into the sunlight—and collapsed sideways, her body falling hard to the floor. In that last moment, she forced her eyes open one more time, trying to catch even the briefest glance of the face she could never stop longing for—no matter how far away it always felt.
"Emma!!!"

"Are you the patient's family? This is the critical condition notice—sign it, now!"
The doors to the OR slammed open, and the doctor coldly shoved a form at him.
"I'm… her husband."
The word "husband" slipped out before Ethan even thought about it. He clutched the briefcase under his arm a little tighter.
Inside it, still warm from his grip, was the divorce agreement—some bitter irony packed in those pages.
"What happened to my wife? Why is she in critical condition?"
"We're still figuring that out. Her oxygen saturation is dropping fast, and her cardiopulmonary function is failing. We need to do an emergency thoracic drainage. Since you're her husband, do you know if she had any medical history we should be aware of? Speak up now—we’ll call in our top cardiac surgeons for a consult."
Ethan just froze, blank eyes staring ahead like his mind had gone completely silent.
How had he never realized? He knew almost nothing about Emma.
"Are you really her husband or not?" The doctor, losing p

Chapter 15