Ajifa

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

SHANA GRAY

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

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A searing pain shot through her arm. It was unbearable.

Claire Williams licked her chapped lips and tried to open her eyes but couldn't.

Her eyelids felt hot and heavy. She heard a muffled voice as she stirred on the bed. Sometimes the voice sounded loud and clear and at times it softened, confusing her.

"Gosh, poor thing! The girl's family refused to give her anesthesia. I wonder why they hate her so much."

"Yes. She has thirty stitches on her arm. I feel the pain just by looking at it."

After a long while, Claire slowly opened her eyes and found herself lying in a hospital bed. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw the IV drip pinching her skin. She soon realized what had happened.

Sierra Brooks had asked her to go shopping with her. But she had brought her only to carry the shopping bags for her.

Sierra often ordered Claire to do her chores, and the latter always obeyed her. That was the case even now.

On the way back, Sierra drove the car and Claire was sitting in the back seat. The next moment, the car crashed.

The car accident flashed in her mind. Claire's heart was drumming in her chest. She broke into a cold sweat. The fear wracked her nerves.

Her body trembled. She frantically looked around and realized no one else was in the ward.

Just as she was about to sit up, she heard sound of footsteps outside the ward.

Claire turned around and saw a tall figure. Her heart fluttered as she realized it was the person whom she had missed a lot.

"Darren!" she cried with joy.

Darren Sampson was her husband. They had been married for three years. She liked him even though they barely saw each other.

Claire thought he had come to visit her after knowing about the car accident. She knew it. He cared about her.

But the next second, the man hurried away, not bothering to even look at her.

Claire's smile vanished in an instant.