His Mistress or My Coffin - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
You are reading His Mistress or My Coffin, Chapter 5: Chapter 5. Read more chapters of His Mistress or My Coffin.
At Lucy's grim nod, John's legs gave out. He crumpled to the floor, then scrambled to his knees, forehead pressed to the linoleum in frantic apology. "Mom, please... it's all my fault!"
A nurse interrupted sharply, "Sir, you need to stop exaggerating medical emergencies! Your girlfriend has a minor scratch that's already scabbing over. You made our trauma team abandon critical patients for this?"
Lily limped forward, reaching for John. "Don't blame yourself," she murmured. But John exploded, shoving her away violently. "This is YOUR fault! If not for you, Mary would—"
"ENOUGH!" Lucy's shout silenced the hallway. "You disgust me, John. Always blaming everyone but yourself! If you hadn't prioritized Lily over your own wife—" Her voice broke. "Mary begged for your help with her dying breath, and you called her dramatic!"
As Lucy led my weeping mother away, John staggered after them. The moment he saw my body, reality hit him like a truck. All color drained from his face as he collapsed beside me, his wails of remorse shaking the room. My limp hand slipped from the gurney, releasing the four-leaf clover pendant I'd clutched until death.
John cradled the charm like a sacred relic, his tears splashing onto the jade. "Mary...forgive me...please..."
A doctor entered with a clipboard. "Next of kin?" John stood on unsteady legs. "Me. I'm her husband."
The physician's cold stare could have frozen lava. "Did you not know your wife was eight weeks pregnant?" He thrust a lab report at John, whose hands trembled so violently the paper rattled like autumn leaves.
His tear-filled eyes searched for my mother's, but she refused to meet his gaze, turning her face away sharply.
Tears splattered onto the test report in his trembling hands.
"Why? Why didn't she tell me?"
John's voice was barely above a whisper as he stared at the paper, reading the same lines over and over as if they might change.
"Tell you? Oh, please—when would she have gotten the chance?" My mother's voice dripped with bitterness.
"You were never home, and when you were, you barely spoke to Mary.
"I was the one who took her to her prenatal appointments—me!" She jabbed a finger toward Lily, her lips curling in disgust.
"And where were you? Huh? Off with her?"
John's hands flew up in frantic denial.
"No—no, Mom, it wasn't like that!"
"Oh, really? Should we have walked in on you two in bed to believe it?" My mother's glare burned with fury as she shoved him toward the door.
"Get out. I can't stand the sight of you playing the victim. And Mary sure as hell doesn't want you here either!
"Take your little girlfriend and go!"
With Lucy's help, John was hauled out of the room.
The door slammed shut behind them with a final, deafening thud. John collapsed to his knees outside the ward, his body shaking. Lily tugged at his arm, pleading, but he didn't—couldn't—move.
"John, stop this. You're scaring me. Please, get up." Her voice cracked.
"Mary wouldn't want you like this. Please."
A nurse interrupted sharply, "Sir, you need to stop exaggerating medical emergencies! Your girlfriend has a minor scratch that's already scabbing over. You made our trauma team abandon critical patients for this?"
Lily limped forward, reaching for John. "Don't blame yourself," she murmured. But John exploded, shoving her away violently. "This is YOUR fault! If not for you, Mary would—"
"ENOUGH!" Lucy's shout silenced the hallway. "You disgust me, John. Always blaming everyone but yourself! If you hadn't prioritized Lily over your own wife—" Her voice broke. "Mary begged for your help with her dying breath, and you called her dramatic!"
As Lucy led my weeping mother away, John staggered after them. The moment he saw my body, reality hit him like a truck. All color drained from his face as he collapsed beside me, his wails of remorse shaking the room. My limp hand slipped from the gurney, releasing the four-leaf clover pendant I'd clutched until death.
John cradled the charm like a sacred relic, his tears splashing onto the jade. "Mary...forgive me...please..."
A doctor entered with a clipboard. "Next of kin?" John stood on unsteady legs. "Me. I'm her husband."
The physician's cold stare could have frozen lava. "Did you not know your wife was eight weeks pregnant?" He thrust a lab report at John, whose hands trembled so violently the paper rattled like autumn leaves.
His tear-filled eyes searched for my mother's, but she refused to meet his gaze, turning her face away sharply.
Tears splattered onto the test report in his trembling hands.
"Why? Why didn't she tell me?"
John's voice was barely above a whisper as he stared at the paper, reading the same lines over and over as if they might change.
"Tell you? Oh, please—when would she have gotten the chance?" My mother's voice dripped with bitterness.
"You were never home, and when you were, you barely spoke to Mary.
"I was the one who took her to her prenatal appointments—me!" She jabbed a finger toward Lily, her lips curling in disgust.
"And where were you? Huh? Off with her?"
John's hands flew up in frantic denial.
"No—no, Mom, it wasn't like that!"
"Oh, really? Should we have walked in on you two in bed to believe it?" My mother's glare burned with fury as she shoved him toward the door.
"Get out. I can't stand the sight of you playing the victim. And Mary sure as hell doesn't want you here either!
"Take your little girlfriend and go!"
With Lucy's help, John was hauled out of the room.
The door slammed shut behind them with a final, deafening thud. John collapsed to his knees outside the ward, his body shaking. Lily tugged at his arm, pleading, but he didn't—couldn't—move.
"John, stop this. You're scaring me. Please, get up." Her voice cracked.
"Mary wouldn't want you like this. Please."
End of His Mistress or My Coffin Chapter 5. Continue reading Chapter 6 or return to His Mistress or My Coffin book page.