His Mistake, Her Liberation

hael Miller, wa

he air changes. The pressure drops. For months,

e he met. I was a surgeon, used to precision and clear facts. The fact was, th

e didn't even have the decency to look gu

n't be so

ice wa

clingy. It's n

tones. My heart felt numb, a dull, heavy organ in my chest. I was to

st some desperate w

ded to go to the new rooftop bar he was always talking about, the one he was an investor in.

a laughing crowd. And next to him, h

fe and flawless smile. She was also Michael' s ex-girlfriend

o whisper something in her ear. She giggled, tilting her head

nized me, looked at me with pity.

eak. I just s

t through the noise. Someo

isdain. "Oh, she's probably at home. You know h

ation felt like a physical blow.

me as if I were a piece of f

e boring. He had no memory of the nights I sat by his hospital bed, rea

hand after the accident, his body broken, his future gone. He

the same woman who had walked out on him the second his life fell apart.

rt transplant after that near-fatal accident. I worked for thirty-six hours

as there. I helped him through physical therapy. I held him when he had nightmar

bed, his voice weak but clear, his eye

ne. "You're my angel. I'll spend the rest of my

They were

. My five years of devotion, of sacrifice, of love-it all m