After Freeing My Husband for His Terminal Ex, He Regretted

After my husband broke our plans to visit both my parents' graves so he could be with his ex, I got into a car crash on the road, alone, on my way to the cemetery.

When they rushed me into surgery, the doctors used my phone to call him and let him know.

He picked up, went silent for two seconds, and when he spoke there was patience worn thin, holding back irritation.

"Abigail Hughes, I already told you, Lois is terminally ill, she doesn't have long. I only came to check on her, I'll be right back. Do you really have to pull something this extreme just because you're jealous?"

The nurse frowned and started to speak, and from his end came an unfamiliar voice.

"Family of Lois Graves, come sign. Are you her partner? Take care with the patient's emotional state, and make sure you cooperate with the treatment going forward."

He had always kept himself above reproach, yet he didn't explain that she was only an ex.

The scratch of the pen came down the line.

"Stop making a scene. Set a time tomorrow and we'll go pay our respects again. Mom and Dad wouldn't want to see you jealous of a dying woman either."

The call ended, and my eyes had gone painfully dry.

The nurse looked at me, at a loss.

"Family needs to sign..."

I lifted my right hand, trembling, blood running down my arm.

With every stroke, all I could see was Leslie Gilbert years ago at my bedside, crying, asking me why I hadn't told him I was sick.

"I'll sign it myself."

From now on, I would sign my name myself.

1.

When I came to, a girl's faint sobbing reached my ears.

A warm hand was gripping mine tight.

I looked up and met Leslie's reddened eyes.

"You're awake. I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

I slipped my hand free, and the small motion cut off his remorse.

He stiffened.

Seeing it, Lois came forward slowly.

"Abigail, please don't blame Les. I really didn't mean to intrude on the two of you. It's just that today the pain was more than I could stand, and then I heard the doctor say there was a risk, and I couldn't stop myself from calling him. I only wanted to see him one last time."

Ever since Lois was diagnosed with blood cancer, things like this had happened again and again.

Every occasion, big or small, the moment we stepped out the door we'd get a call from her saying she felt unwell. Every holiday, her attending doctor could always time it so that just as I finished laying out a full table of food, the phone would ring to say she was critical and needed to see Leslie one last time.

Every time was the last time.

And every time, there was always a next.

I couldn't help laughing.

Just as I was about to speak, Leslie stood and steadied her swaying body.

"She has no one she knows here. As her friend, it's only right I look out for her a little. Her health is poor, and to put it plainly, from here on every day she has is one less. Don't hold it against her. She didn't do it on purpose, she just didn't want any regrets."

"She feels guilty. She's been waiting here a long time, just to explain to you when you woke up."

Leslie found her excuses with practiced ease.

The truth was, at the start he hadn't believed her either. Call after call, he'd thrown harsh words back at her, told her she deserved it, handed back to her every bit of what he'd felt after being betrayed and abandoned.

Until later, when we were trying for a baby, and after a checkup at the hospital we saw Lois, thin to the bone, sitting in a wheelchair.

Leslie went several nights without sleeping.

Finally, one afternoon, he confessed to me that he wanted to help her.

Back then he was open about it, and there was nothing but pity in the way he looked at her.

Not like now, when the way he looked at her was full of a worry that wouldn't dissolve.

"She's awake now. You should hurry back and get some rest."

Lois nodded, eyes red.

But the moment she turned, she stumbled, lost her footing, and fell into his arms, coughing.

Leslie caught her on instinct, then glanced back at me.

There was none of the old displeasure or jealousy in my eyes. I only turned my head and looked out the window at the view.

He froze for a moment, his voice low and hoarse.

"It isn't easy for her on her own like this. I'll take her back first and come right back."

I didn't answer. I just watched, in the reflection on the window glass, his hand gripping hers, trembling.

It was the careful, afraid-to-lose gesture, exactly the way he'd once shielded me.

Only now he didn't ask me a single word about what had happened, whether it still hurt, whether I was in pain.

There was nothing left but his defending of Lois, his standing up for her.

I let out a scornful laugh and dialed my lawyer.

"Draw up divorce papers for me. As fast as you can."

Leslie's "right back" meant two hours later.

By the time he got back, I'd slept and woken again.

"Today was my fault. I promise I won't be that careless again."

I looked at the guilt in his eyes, listless.

"You don't need to promise anything. What you do is your business."

He frowned.

"Can you not be like this? When I said I wanted to help her, you agreed too. What's with the sarcasm now?"

Before, hearing something like this would only have made him think he'd hurt my feelings. He'd have teased me and coaxed me and apologized, over and over. He'd never been impatient with me like this.

I gave a self-mocking laugh.

"Nothing at all. I've been to the edge of death and back. Now I understand her."

His face darkened.

"You went through one car crash and you already feel like that. She's endured this kind of torment for years. Wanting someone to help her is completely normal."

"I know I've neglected you a lot lately, but I just don't want to be left with regrets. You should be able to understand that. Whatever else, you're the only one in my heart. My conscience is clear."

I said nothing, but my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a fist, until I couldn't breathe.

How laughable. His wife came out of a critical surgery, and it counted for less than one word about his ex not feeling well.

Seeing that I wasn't going to answer, Leslie sighed.

"There's something I have to handle at the company. Call me if you need anything. Get some rest."

I still didn't respond.

By evening, he sent a message saying he had to work late and couldn't come see me.

I didn't reply. Instead I scrolled onto a post from Lois, geotagged at a mall nearby.

It feels so good to be chosen by you, without any doubt. Forgive me for greedily wanting to keep you all to myself.

The attached clip showed a hand feeding her soup, and on that hand's finger was a ring, part of a matching pair with my wedding band.

The diamond threw off a glare so sharp it turned my stomach.

So I poured out the cold oatmeal his assistant had delivered half an hour earlier.

For the next few days, Leslie came to see me in the mornings and spent his afternoons and evenings with Lois.

On the day I was discharged, he came early to pick me up.

We'd just finished listening to the doctor's instructions and were about to leave when his phone rang.

It was Lois.

He hung up and it rang again. Three times over. Tired of it, I reached over and answered for him.

The girl's fragile voice came through.

"Les, I finished chemo today. Can you keep the promise now, to take me to the amusement park?"

Leslie glanced at me. His tone was cold.

"I have to take my wife home. It's not a good time."

There was a long silence on the other end, then a single "sorry" before the line went dead.

Leslie steered me into the elevator, distracted, explaining that it had only been an excuse to keep her calm through the chemo.

But his eyes kept drifting to his phone. He even forgot to press the button.

Once we were in the car, the hematology doctor called him.

"Lois just finished chemo. You're her family. How could you let her run around like this?"

Leslie's expression went tight.

"What?"

Before he could finish, another call came through.

He answered at once.

"Where did you go? Who told you to run off like that?"

Wind noise came through the line, laced with the sounds of people having fun.

"I wanted to come to the amusement park one last time. I'm fine, don't worry about me."

The call ended. Leslie wrenched the wheel and swung the car around. My forehead hit the window with a dull thud.

Only then did he look at me, slamming on the brakes.

"If she sees you she'll feel guilty again. Go home on your own first. I'll head back once I've taken her to the hospital."

Was he afraid she'd feel guilty, or afraid that the sight of me would sting her eyes?

Before I could move, he got out, came around, and pulled me from the car.

"Be good."

It struck me then. Back when Lois was threatening to end it all just to see him once, he'd only called the police and left his assistant to follow up.

Once, his contracts worth millions had mattered less to him than a scrape on my hand.

Now the man who'd promised to always put me first had finally met his exception.

The car sped off, and I stood in the flow of traffic, unable to find a single car that would stop for me.

I calmly wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and started walking the other way.

It's fine. From now on, I'll be my own safe harbor.

I took a cab home and started packing.

Two picture frames stood side by side on the nightstand.

I set the last ultrasound of our unborn baby carefully into the suitcase.

Beside it was our wedding photo, Leslie's and mine.

I brushed my fingers over the smiling woman in the picture, and my hand came away coated in dust.

Dirty. Just like the man himself.

At our wedding he'd held my hand and promised he would never leave me, no matter what happened, not for the rest of his life.

I'd been too naive, clinging to an old promise to numb myself, forgetting that a heart changes in an instant, all the more so when it's turned toward a first love who's dying.

Everything was packed except my documents.

But while I was searching for them, I found an application to establish a foundation.

The applicant was Leslie Gilbert.

The foundation was named the Lois Graves Rare Blood Disease Foundation.

The donation amount was one point six million.

My chest clenched all at once.

Back when we lost our baby to the accident, the heartbeat stopped at exactly sixteen weeks.

We'd cried ourselves out day after day, wrecked by it.

In the end, to remember and to mourn, Leslie had said he wanted to set up a charity foundation named after our child, one that helped orphans, to build up good karma for the baby, hoping he might come back to us someday.

The donation was set at one point six million, for the sixteen weeks.

He'd told me the paperwork kept getting held up. But now, under the application, there was a statement changing the foundation's name, dated on the very day of our child's first memorial.

My chest stung like a needle had gone through it, and cold sweat broke out all over me.

I sat in the living room, clutching the two sheets of paper.

When Leslie came back there was still a faint, contented smile at the corner of his mouth. He tapped out a message on his phone before he came over.

"Honey, I dropped her at the hospital and came straight back. I was just too anxious earlier. Nothing happened to you on the way, did it? I sent the driver to pick you up, but he didn't see you."

I pulled away from his reach and pointed at the table.

My voice came out badly hoarse.

"Explain. Why the change?"

He panicked in an instant.

"How did you find that? You went through my things?"

My eyes were red.

"Are these your things alone?"

He dropped his head, his eyes full of pleading.

"Hear me out. She's dying. She said she's never done anything meaningful in her whole life and now she has to go, that she wants to give something back to society before she dies, wants people to remember her name."

"I only changed it to help her finish her last wish. I'm already working on the foundation for our baby. By his memorial next year, it'll be done. I promise!"

I couldn't hold back. I slapped him across the face.

"Taking your own child's money to build a good name for your ex through charity. Leslie Gilbert, you actually make me sick."

His eyes went red all at once, and he shot to his feet.

"I just don't want to be left with regret. Is that so wrong?"

I looked at him and laughed under my breath.

"Using your wife and your child to spare your ex her regrets. If you can't let her go this much, why did you even marry me?"

The color drained from his face.

"Honey, don't be like this. Hear me out"

I went back to the bedroom and dragged out the suitcase I'd packed long ago.

He gripped my wrist, disbelieving.

"What are you doing? Where are you going? You're not even better yet, you can't"

I threw off his hand.

"Do you actually care? Stop pretending. Once the divorce agreement is drafted, I'll send it to you. Until then, I don't want to see you."

He was about to come after me when his phone rang.

The hematology doctor clearly regarded him now as Lois's family, calling him for everything.

"She's not doing well right now. Can her family put in a little effort, actually stay with her? Do you have to lose someone before you learn to regret it?"

Leslie froze for a moment. He looked at my unyielding back and answered that he understood.

He hung up and drew in a deep breath.

"I know this went to your head, but with her it's only about doing right by her, there's no feelings. Let's both cool off for a few days. Once things are better on her end, we'll talk it through properly."

After he hurried out, a message from the lawyer popped up on my phone.

The agreement is drafted.

Once I had the divorce agreement in hand, I checked into a room at a hotel nearby.

I went over the terms, confirmed there were no problems, and signed my name.

Just as I was about to call Leslie, an emergency call flashed onto my screen.

The moment I picked up, a rushed voice came through.

"Is this Ms. Abigail Hughes? We're calling from hematology at the city hospital. Your marrow's come back as a match for one of our patients with a blood disease. Would you be willing to donate to her? Her condition is very serious right now."

I assumed it was a scam and hung up.

But half an hour later, someone knocked on my door, and Leslie was standing there, eyes red.

"The doctors say you're the marrow match for Lois. Her condition just took a turn, she doesn't have long. Please, will you donate for her? It's a human life on the line!"

"I swear, once she recovers, I'll never involve myself in her affairs again. I'll settle down and live properly with you. Think of it as earning good grace for our child. All right?"

Wait for Lois to get well, wait for Lois to die, wait for someday.

For Lois's sake he had made me wait so many times, and not once had he ever made good on any of it.

And now, again for her, he wanted me, whose body was already fragile, to donate my marrow.

Only in this moment did I understand how little his love for me could withstand.

I pressed down the tears and gave a soft laugh.

"And if I say no?"

His face stiffened.

"I don't believe you're that cold-blooded! Abby, I'm begging you. Don't force my hand, all right?"

I looked at him steadily.

"Do you really feel nothing for her but pity? Or, put another way, do you really love me? If I were the one who fell ill today, would you force her to donate for me?"

Leslie froze for an instant.

Before he could speak, I took out the divorce agreement.

"You sign this, and I'll donate."

When he saw the word divorce, his whole body swayed.

"You want to divorce me? You want to divorce me over a woman who's about to die?"

I looked at him steadily.

"Not over a woman who's about to die. I just don't want to keep living with a man who's never treated my life as if it mattered."

His face went bone-white, and he tore the agreement in two.

"That's not it. I'm only trying to help her. I do care about you. I won't divorce you, I won't agree to it!"

As he spoke, the doctor called again, pressing him.

"Mr. Gilbert, Lois's condition is getting worse. The surgery has to happen before tomorrow!"

Eyes red, trembling, Leslie watched me pull a second copy of the divorce agreement from my bag and push it in front of him.

"The one you love can't wait any longer. Sign."

He stared at me, wrenched with pain, then picked up the pen.

"I know you're only angry. Once the donation is done, I'll show you my love! I will not divorce you!"

The moment I watched him sign his name without hesitation, I shut the door.

"Come pick me up here tomorrow morning."

After he left, I immediately sent a selfie to an unknown number.

"I need the identity of a twin sister and somewhere I won't be found for a short while. Come get the cash in an hour."

Early the next morning, Leslie came for me himself. We didn't speak the whole way.

Seeing me appear without a struggle, Lois let out a breath, her face deathly pale.

"I'm sorry, sister. I'm making you suffer for me."

Leslie patted her hand.

"Saving a life is worth more than any prayer. This little bit of hardship is nothing to her."

Then he reached for my hand, and I pulled away.

I looked at him, calm.

"And if I die on the operating table?"

He started, and his eyes went red at once.

"That won't happen. Don't talk nonsense. It's only a donation, nothing will go wrong."

Then they called him away to sign the transplant consent form.

Watching him go, I gave a soft laugh.

"Then let me show you exactly how a one-in-a-hundred-thousand chance happens."

......

After Leslie signed the consent form, he waited in the room he'd arranged for them to come out.

His assistant came in with several caregivers.

"Mr. Gilbert, we've brought in the best people to look after Miss Graves and your wife."

Leslie glanced at them.

"Have them all stay with Lois. I'll take Abby home and care for her myself. She's sacrificed too much for me this time. I have to take good care of her, ask for her forgiveness."

He kept imagining what gesture might finally make Abigail feel how sincere he was.

Then the operating room doors opened, and Lois was wheeled out.

In the middle of his relief, Leslie looked around.

"Where's my wife?"

The doctor pulled down his mask and sighed.

"Mr. Gilbert, Miss Graves's surgery was a success."

"But the donor, Ms. Hughes, carried lingering effects from her car accident. During the transplant they triggered complications, and despite everything we did, we could not save her. I'm sorry to say she has passed away!"