The day the hospital found a successful bone marrow match for me, I lay in my hospital bed and waited for my husband, Dr. Ethan Brooks, all night. It wasn’t until 2:40 AM that I heard voices in the hallway. “The match has already been transferred to Chloe Sinclair,” Head Nurse Miller lowered her voice. “But Nora doesn’t know yet.” Ethan paused. “I’ll tell her there was a glitch in the system and we have to put her back on the waitlist.” “And what about her after this?” “I’ll keep looking,” Ethan’s voice was hoarse. “I’ll definitely find another match.” I leaned against the headboard, listening to every single word. At 2:50 AM, he pushed the door open. He brought the scent of Chloe’s perfume in with him. “There was an issue with the marrow registry.” “The hospital says you have to sign a waiver first, but you won’t lose your spot in line. I’ll just sign it for you.” He didn’t look me in the eye. It was as if he was carefully weighing every word, afraid that saying the wrong thing would shatter me. He thought I would be disappointed. He thought I would cry and scream. But I just looked at him and said calmly: “Okay, Dr. Brooks.” “You can leave now. I want to rest.” He stood frozen in place, his lips parting a few times, but in the end, he didn’t say a word. Once Ethan was gone, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t dared to touch in three years. “Hello? The hospice bed we discussed last time… is it still available?” …… “The bed has always been reserved for you, Ms. Vance. When do you plan on checking in?” The voice on the other end was clinical but gentle. “The day after tomorrow, at the latest.” “Understood. We will have a PCA pain pump ready for your arrival.” I hung up the phone. The glow of the screen slowly faded into the darkness. Outside the hallway window, the sky turned a pale, ashen gray. My room door was gently pushed open. Ethan had changed into a clean white coat. He was carrying an insulated thermos. His gaze landed on my pale face, a fleeting trace of guilt flashing in his eyes. “Why are you awake so early?” He walked over and set the thermos on the nightstand. “The pain woke me up,” I looked at him. He stiffened, reaching out to feel my forehead. I turned my head away, dodging his hand. His hand hovered in mid-air before slowly pulling back. “I’m sorry. We had a system failure with the donor registry last night. I was dealing with it until late.” He unscrewed the lid of the thermos. “I brought you chicken noodle soup from that deli downtown. Your favorite.” The smell of chicken broth and grease wafted up with the steam. My stomach instantly churned. I slapped a hand over my mouth and dry-heaved. Ethan froze. “Take it away.” I leaned weakly back against the pillows. “Ever since the chemo, I can’t stomach that smell.” It seemed he finally remembered. His expression shifted. “I’m sorry, I forgot. I’ll go get you some plain oatmeal right now.” He hurriedly screwed the lid back on and turned to leave. “Don’t bother,” I stopped him. “I’m not hungry.” He halted and turned back to look at me. “Nora, about the marrow match… I’ll pull every string I have to find another one as soon as possible. Trust me.” “I trust you, Dr. Brooks,” I replied, my tone flat. He looked at me, his brows furrowing slightly. In the past, if I felt even the slightest bit wronged, I would tug at his sleeve and cry. But today, I hadn’t shed a single tear. “Time for morning rounds,” Head Nurse Miller walked in, pushing her medical cart and shattering the dead silence in the room. When she saw Ethan, her eyes darted away guiltily. “Dr. Brooks, I need to take bed 16’s vitals.” “I’ll do it,” Ethan said, taking the thermometer. Just then, the sound of a wheelchair rolling down the hall reached us. A woman drowning in an oversized hospital gown was wheeled into the room by a nurse’s aide. It was Chloe Sinclair. She looked pale, but there was an unmistakable, pitiful frailty about her. “Ethan…” she spoke timidly. “They just drew my blood. The needle prick hurts so much, and I couldn’t find you anywhere.” The hand Ethan was using to hold the thermometer paused. He looked at me, then back at Chloe. “I’ll be right there,” Ethan lowered his voice. “But I’m so scared,” Chloe’s eyes rimmed red. “That nurse was so mean. I just wanted you to press the cotton swab for me.” She turned her head to look at me, forcing a weak smile. “Nora, I’m so sorry.” “My life is entirely in Ethan’s hands right now.” She emphasized the word “life.” It sounded like a deliberate reminder. Ethan tossed the thermometer back onto the cart. “Chloe’s platelet count is too low. She’s at risk for a coagulation disorder,” he explained to me. “I’ll go check on her and come right back.” “Go ahead,” I said, staring at the ceiling. “Her needs are more urgent.” Ethan didn’t say anything else. He quickly stepped behind the wheelchair and pushed Chloe out the door. Nurse Miller walked over with a blood pressure cuff, blocking my line of sight. “Nora…” she started, hesitating. “Nurse Miller,” I cut her off. “Can my discharge papers be processed today?” She looked stunned. “Discharge? But Dr. Brooks said your follow-up treatments still require…” “That’s his problem,” I lowered my eyes. “I want to be discharged.” “Stop this nonsense!” Ethan’s voice boomed from the doorway. He strode back into the room, his brows locked in a furious scowl. “Your white blood cell count has completely bottomed out! Discharging yourself now is suicide!” He marched to the side of my bed, glaring down at me. “Nora, I know you’re upset about the match failing, but we can’t give up hope.” He said the word “failing” so naturally. As if he wasn’t the one who had physically ripped the life-saving marrow out of my hands. “Ethan, where is my attending physician?” I asked. His eyes flickered evasively. “Dr. Evans was transferred to a fellowship program. I assigned Dr. Bennett to you. He’s a specialist who studied at Johns Hopkins. He’s incredibly experienced.” “Did he go to a fellowship, or did you transfer him to the VIP suite exclusively to run Chloe’s pre-transplant evaluations?” I stared straight through him. Ethan’s face instantly darkened. “You’ve been checking my staff schedules?” “The entire oncology department is talking about it. Did I even need to check?” I pulled my lips into a cynical smile. “A team of top-tier specialists, a 24/7 sterile isolation room, and you even pulled my attending physician to serve her.” “You’re a real hero, Dr. Brooks.” “Nora!” Ethan’s voice spiked. “Chloe’s situation is different from yours! Her aplastic anemia is in its final stages. If we don’t pool our resources to save her, she won’t survive the week!” “And what about me?” I asked. “Your leukemia is still in the chronic phase! We can maintain it with chemotherapy!” he snapped, his tone thick with annoyance. “Could you please stop being so petty and calculating at a time like this?” Petty and calculating. I rolled those words around on my tongue, finding them almost funny. In his eyes, fighting for my own life was just me being petty. “Okay,” I nodded. “I’ll stop calculating.” He froze, seemingly caught off guard by how quickly I caved. Taking a deep breath, his tone softened. “Nora, I know this is unfair to you. Once Chloe’s surgery is done, I’ll take a month off. I’ll take you to the beach to relax, okay?” “Haven’t you always wanted to go to Iceland to see the Northern Lights? We’ll go this year.” He reached out to touch my cheek. Suddenly, a piercing alarm blared from the hallway. “Dr. Brooks! Code blue in the VIP suite! Ms. Sinclair is in respiratory distress!” a young nurse screamed as she sprinted past my door. Ethan yanked his hand back instantly. “I’m coming!” Without sparing me another glance, he turned and sprinted out the door. The heavy hospital door slammed shut behind him. A cold draft swept across the room, making me shiver. I reached over and ripped the IV needle out of the back of my hand. Blood instantly welled up, dripping onto the pristine white sheets. Pressing a cotton ball to the puncture wound, I slowly climbed out of bed. The hallway was chaotic. Leaning against the wall, I took it one step at a time, making my way toward the VIP suite. Just as I reached the corner, I heard voices coming from inside. “Ethan, I feel so awful… am I going to die?” It was Chloe’s sobbing voice. “Don’t say that. The bone marrow arrives tomorrow,” Ethan’s voice was so tender it dripped with affection. “You’re going to get better so soon.” “But that marrow… wasn’t it supposed to be for Nora?” “That was a system error with the matching algorithm,” Ethan lied without missing a beat. “Her condition isn’t critical. You are the first priority.” Standing behind the wall, the blood in my veins turned to ice. System error. He even managed to make his excuses sound noble. I turned around and started walking back. “Ms. Vance, what are you doing out of bed?” Dr. Bennett, the Johns Hopkins specialist, happened to walk by. He frowned at me. “Dr. Bennett, please prescribe me a few boxes of painkillers.” “Your current vitals don’t allow for heavy doses of analgesics.” “Just prescribe them,” I looked at him. “Otherwise, I’m afraid I won’t survive long enough to sign my discharge papers.” Dr. Bennett froze. “You’re discharging yourself?” Dr. Bennett didn’t give me the painkillers. Instead, he went straight to Ethan and told him I was wandering the halls. At 2:00 PM, Ethan appeared in my room again. This time, Nurse Miller and two orderlies pushing a flatbed cart were right behind him. “Pack your things,” Ethan stood at the foot of my bed, his tone cold and hard. I looked at him. “Where am I going?” “You’re moving to the general ward.” He said it as if discussing the weather. “Chloe’s pre-op prep requires absolute silence and a strictly sterile environment. This VIP room has the best ventilation system in the hospital. She needs to move in here.” I looked around the room. The day I was diagnosed, Ethan used every connection he had to fight for this specific VIP room for me. He told me he couldn’t stand the thought of me being disturbed by other patients. He told me the floor-to-ceiling windows would let the sunlight in and keep my spirits up. Now, he was taking that sunlight and giving it to someone else. “The general ward is a six-person shared room,” I stated the facts. “It’s only temporary,” he frowned, acting as if I was throwing an unreasonable tantrum. “Once Chloe is transferred to the sterile isolation bubble, you can move back.” “Nora, she is extremely weak right now. Even the slightest infection will kill her. Can’t you be a little more understanding?” I stared at his face, masked in self-righteousness. “And if I refuse to move?” Ethan’s eyes darkened. “Nora, don’t force me to use my authority as Head of the Department to forcibly transfer your bed.” He was using his title to threaten me. Three years of marriage couldn’t compete with Chloe whining that she was “scared.” “Fine. I’ll move.” I threw off the covers. Refusing his help, I slowly began packing my things. I didn’t have much. Two sets of clothes, a few thermoses, and a couple of books Ethan had bought me in the past. The orderlies stepped forward to help. Outside the door, Chloe was wheeled over. She looked at me, her eyes brimming with apology. “Nora, I’m so, so sorry for taking your space again.” “But Ethan said the sunlight in here is the best for recovery. I’ll just borrow it for a few days. Please don’t be mad at me.” She was holding a beautifully wrapped fruit basket in her lap. “I had someone buy these imported cherries. I heard they’re great for building blood. Nora, please take them to your new room.” She held the basket out to me. I didn’t take it. Ethan interjected from the side. “Chloe bought them for you. Just take them.” I looked into Chloe’s innocent, wide eyes. “Just because you like taking things that belong to other people doesn’t mean I do.” Chloe’s hands jerked violently. The fruit basket tumbled to the floor, spilling bright red cherries everywhere. “Nora… are you still blaming me?” Her eyes instantly went red, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I know I shouldn’t be alive! I’ll give the bone marrow back to you! I just won’t get treatment!” She struggled to stand up from the wheelchair, only to collapse limply. Ethan caught her with lightning speed. “Chloe!” He whipped his head around, glaring at me furiously. “Nora, do you have to be so incredibly vicious?” “She’s a dying woman! Why are you bullying her?!” It felt like a sledgehammer slammed into my chest. A violent, coppery taste surged up my throat.
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