My daughter, Ashley Moore, and I were involved in a serious car accident, and the driver who hit us was none other than Scarlett Bullock, the woman my husband, Mark Moore, had feelings for. When Mark arrived, instead of being a worried dad, he, as a doctor, chose to help Scarlett’s son. Ashley was rushed to the ER and was in critical condition. She asked for her dad in a faint voice. I called him many times before he finally answered. “Mark, Ashley’s been in an accident. She needs you…” He coldly replied, “Are you done causing drama? You’re such a terrible mother!” A week later, Mark showed up at a gathering with Scarlett and casually asked, “Where’s Ashley?” Holding Ashley’s ashes, I approached him, filled with sorrow. “Right here.” *** “Mom, I feel so sick… Ahem…” My daughter sobbed in my arms, her face and body riddled with shards of glass, some of which were dangerously lodged in her throat. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but I dared not touch her, terrified that any wrong move would put her in more danger. “Ashley, don’t be scared. I’ve called the police. The doctors are on their way!” Moments before, we had been in a normal routine when a car crash changed everything. My husband’s lover, Scarlett, was the one behind the wheel. I was driving straight, and she came barreling toward us in the wrong lane. Before long, I heard the wailing of the sirens approaching in the distance. When I saw the man leading the charge, relief washed over me—it was my husband, Mark. The impact had crumpled the car beyond recognition, and the door was jammed shut. Desperately, I reached through the shattered window, stretching my hand toward him. “Mark, please save Ashley!” But to my horror, Mark bypassed me entirely, sprinting straight to Scarlett, who was on the ground. I could only watch helplessly as he worked to revive her and her son. Tears streamed down Ashley’s face, her voice filled with pain. “Mom, it hurts. Didn’t Daddy say he’s a hero in a white coat? Why is he helping them and not me? Does Daddy not love me anymore?” I gently stroked her flushed cheeks, swallowing my heartbreak. “Ashley, don’t cry. Someone will come to help us! You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
Ashley was taken into the operating room, and I paced nervously outside, worry gnawing at my insides. Scarlett’s son was wheeled into the adjacent surgical suite, creating a surreal parallel between our lives. Moments later, a nurse burst out of the OR, her face pale. “This is bad. The patient’s condition is critical. We need Dr. Moore for the surgery; it’s the only chance we’ve got!” The staff all knew about my relationship with Mark, which was why they were sharing this grim news with me. Without wasting a moment, I dialed Mark’s number. It rang through, but he hung up on me. I tried again. Finally, his voice came through, laced with irritation. “Felicity, are you kidding me right now? Do you know I’m in the middle of saving a life?” “Mark, Ashley’s in surgery, and the situation is dire. They said having you do the operation increases her chances,” I urged, my voice trembling. “Are you done making a scene? Cursing your own daughter? How can you be such a terrible mother!” Mark shot back, his tone icy. He ended the call, cutting me off without a second thought. I dialed again, but this time, it went straight to voicemail. I couldn’t believe it. Even though I had been the one taking care of Ashley since the day she was born, he was still her biological father! Then, I caught sight of movement nearby. Mark was pushing Scarlett’s son into the rescue room. Ignoring everything else, I charged toward him, my eyes blazing with pain and frustration. I grabbed his arm. “If you don’t save Ashley, I swear, I’ll file for divorce!” Without warning, Mark shoved me to the ground. “If you want to throw a tantrum, take it home! This is a hospital!”
I slumped to the floor, helplessly watching as Mark rushed Scarlett’s son into the operating room. Scarlett stood to the side, a smug smile plastered across her face, with no trace of worry for her child. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and ridicule that only fueled my anger. I had no time to waste on her smugness. I sprinted back to the surgical waiting area, demanding that the nurses find another surgeon to operate on Ashley. The nurse, trying to comfort me, said, “It wasn’t a wise choice to have Dr. Moore perform the surgery. Emotions can cloud judgment and worsen the patient’s condition. Don’t lose hope; there are other amazing doctors at this hospital.” I returned to the waiting room, but it wasn’t long before a doctor handed me a grim prognosis. He informed me that Ashley had only a few days left, suggesting I gather any family members who needed to say their goodbyes. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. Ashley was just ten years old! Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. How could this happen to my sweet girl? Ashley was wheeled into the recovery room, attached to a multitude of tubes and wires. She didn’t wake up that first day, and all I could do was stare at the irregular beeping of the heart monitor, feeling like my heart was breaking into pieces. My parents, Vincent and Amanda Aniston, and my brother, Logan, rushed to my side. I’d informed Mark’s parents of what was happening, but they didn’t show up. I knew they looked down on me for not giving them a grandson; I could feel their disdain every time they glanced at Ashley. I never expected that in a moment so dire, they would choose to stay away completely. My parents were beside themselves with grief. Amanda even fainted from the overwhelming sadness. But then, the following day, something miraculous happened—Ashley opened her eyes. I rushed to her side, holding her frail hand tightly. “Ashley, it’s Mom. Don’t be scared. I’m right here with you.” She struggled to breathe, her gaze darting around the room. “Where’s Daddy? I want Daddy!” My heart shattered all over again. Tears streamed down my face as I reluctantly called Mark. But I was met with the cold sound of my call being blocked. In desperation, I asked Logan to call him. Logan put the call on speaker, his tone urgent. “Mark, Ashley is in critical condition. Where the hell are you?” Unexpectedly, Mark didn’t respond to Logan. Instead, he laid into me. “Felicity, how long are you going to keep this drama going? You want to drag your brother into this now? Do you think that threatening me with divorce is going to make me compromise? I’m a doctor. I don’t have time for your games. I need to save my patients!” With that, he hung up, leaving us in stunned silence. Logan tried to call him again, but the call went straight to voicemail. Despair washed over me as I sank down beside Ashley’s hospital bed, unsure of how to explain everything. “Ashley, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
Ashley was struggling to breathe, her words coming out in labored gasps. “Mom, you’re my favorite. Does Dad not like me? Is that why he never comes home to see me? I really miss you…” With those words, Ashley shut her eyes. The heart monitor emitted a long, chilling beep! “Ashley!” I screamed, my voice cracking with desperation. I thought to myself, “My girl is only ten years old! Why, oh why, does fate have to take her away? If anyone should go, it should be me!” Through it all, Mark was nowhere to be found. Amanda, Vincent, and Logan stepped in to help me with the funeral arrangements. Many people came to pay their respects to Ashley. But Mark, along with his parents, didn’t show their faces at all. Some friends approached me, asking, “Where’s Ashley’s father? Why isn’t he here?” Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my phone and dialed Mark’s number, only to find that I was still on his blacklist. No matter how many times I called, I was met with the same recorded message. Fury surged through me, making my hands shake; I felt like I could just explode. Logan squeezed my shoulder, trying to calm me down. “We can’t keep waiting. We need to get Ashley cremated. She knows you love her.” I clenched my fists, tears streaming down my face. With a heavy heart, I nodded in agreement.
The memorial for Ashley was a heart-wrenching affair. Everyone was crying uncontrollably, and my eyes felt like they were about to burst from the tears. The funeral director pushed Ashley’s casket towards the cremation room. I followed closely, my voice rising in a desperate wail that echoed throughout the room. “My daughter, how could you leave me? I can’t bear to let you go! Please come back! You were always so good—why did fate have to be so cruel and take you away at just ten years old? “Ashley, please come back!” I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. It felt like these past few days had drained every tear I had left in me. Logan was there, supporting me, his own tears flowing freely. I cradled Ashley’s urn as I returned home, the floor scattered with white chrysanthemums and her photographs. I couldn’t bring myself to remove them; I just wanted to stay with Ashley a little longer. Suddenly, I heard voices outside the door—it was Mark and Scarlett. “Mark, that doll you picked for Ashley is beautiful! She’s going to love it,” Scarlett chirped. My heart raced with anger. I thought, “How dare she show her face here after what she did to my daughter?” Mark replied, “Ashley kept asking me for that doll last Christmas. I figured it’s better late than never, right?” As they stepped inside and took in the sight of the room filled with flowers, they froze in shock. Mark casually glanced at me. “Felicity, who passed away?” The nerve of him! “Mark, you really have some guts, bringing that murderer here to see your daughter!” I spat, my voice thick with rage. Mark frowned, his brows knitting together. “Don’t say that. It was just an accident. The police told me her brakes failed; it wasn’t intentional. Scarlett came to apologize and brought a gift for Ashley. Where is she, by the way?” I pointed to Ashley’s photo, my face a mask of indifference. Mark’s face darkened. “Felicity, I’m warning you—stop this nonsense! You can’t joke about things like this! Where’s Ashley? Let her come out!” Scarlett tugged at his arm. “Mark, I understand Felicity is upset with me. It was my fault; I panicked when my brakes failed. I meant to turn right, but I accidentally turned left and hit Felicity’s car. It’s natural for her to blame me. I’m truly sorry and came here to make amends.” I glared at her, wishing I could do something to make her pay for the pain she caused. Scarlett looked around the room, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “But really, Felicity, this is too much. How could you hold a funeral for Ashley? Even if you don’t believe in the divine, don’t you fear you’re angering her spirit? She’s just a child. How could she suffer like this?” Mark glared at me, his anger palpable. “Get all this cleared away! Where’s Ashley? I’ve been here forever, and she hasn’t even come to say hello. What kind of upbringing is she getting?” “She’s right here!” I shouted. “Where?” Mark looked around, confusion etched on his face. I stepped forward, holding Ashley’s urn, my heart heavy. “She’s right here!”
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