1

I dried my wet hands before answering my mother-in-law's call.

"Hello, Mom?"

"Dear, come to St. John's Hospital right away," she instructed as soon as I answered.

"Um, why, Mom?"

"We'll be waiting for you there. We're on our way," she abruptly ended the call providing no details, causing my anxiety to intensify.

In my worry and haste, I reached for my wallet, which was resting on top of the refrigerator, without bothering to change my clothes.

I felt that my mother-in-law's call held significant importance, and I hoped it wasn't delivering bad news.

I hailed a taxi, and in under thirty minutes, I arrived at the hospital.

"Brother, what happened?" I inquired, addressing my husband's eldest sibling.

"It's Ivan—"

"What happened to him? What happened to my husband, brother?" I asked, tears streaming down my face as anxiety went through me and continued, "Where is he?"

"He's in the operating room; he had an accident after his car collided with a truck."

"My God!" I covered my mouth and couldn't hold back my sobs.

Oh, my God! I couldn't stop my legs from shaking, and I felt utterly lost. Ivan's sister hurried over to us and offered me a comforting hug.

The minutes dragged on as we anxiously awaited the medical team tending to Ivan. It felt like an endless wait. After a two-hour stretch, the door to the operating room finally swung open, and we approached the doctor, exiting the room.

"The operation was successful, but we need to monitor him in the ICU for the next twenty-four hours."

I struggled to comprehend the rest of the doctor's explanation. If the operation was successful, why did they have to transfer him to the ICU?

A little while later, I visited my husband in the ICU. A wave of sympathy washed over me as I saw him surrounded by various medical devices, with his vital signs being closely monitored.

They said comatose individuals can hear you, so I knew I should speak to him. I fell silent for a moment because my tears were uncontrollable. I gently held his hand and kissed the unbruised part of his forehead.

"Honey, please, fight, alright?" I bit my quivering lip. "You have to pull through." I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hold back my sobs.

"If you wake up, I won't give you headaches anymore... I won't be jealous, and I won't argue with you anymore..."

There's a word I've been wanting to tell him, but I couldn't bring myself to say it.

"I love you so much, Ivan. I love you immensely."

Throughout the night, I kept watch over Ivan. His parents and siblings had promised to come the next day to relieve me from my vigil.

Sleep eluded me as my deep concern for him triggered a torrent of thoughts. What if he's gone for good?

I gently caressed his hair and gazed at him, dreading that it might be the last time I'd see his face. I committed the contours of his handsome features to memory, unsure if I'd ever have the chance to see them again.

I longed for him to wake up, to return to his former self, and for me to finally fade from his life.

Tears welled up once more. The mere thought of leaving his life was excruciating. It felt as though my heart, already shattered over the past year by one person.

Yet, despite it all, I still loved him deeply.

"If you can survive, I'll set you free. I'll allow you to be with the woman you love. I know you've desired this for a long time, but I clung stubbornly to our separation," I sighed. It felt like my words were strangling me as I uttered them.

I found it hard to believe that I had summoned the courage to utter those words. In the year we've spent together as a married couple, I can confidently say I've been a devoted wife. I've diligently attended to his needs, even though our relationship has never followed the conventional path of most married couples.

He harbored resentment towards me, resentful that I had seemingly stripped away his freedom and shattered his dreams. It was clear that he was disgusted by our situation.

Being an orphan since the age of fifteen, following my parents' tragic demise in a plane crash, I had no one else to turn to. Fortunately, Ivan's parents, who were close friends with mine, graciously took me in because none of my other relatives were willing to provide me with a home and care.

The first time I laid eyes on Ivan, I couldn't help but be drawn to him, even though he was seven years my senior. He was my first crush, my initial taste of love. At the time, he was twenty-two and already overseeing the family business. However, his heart belonged to Maureen, his girlfriend, and he was completely head over heels for her.

I concealed my feelings for him, even though I was aware that his parents and siblings knew about my affection for Ivan, but they never broached the subject.

How did we end up as a married couple?

A year ago, Ivan returned home drunk. I took care of him and helped him to his room. It was late at night, and the household staff had already retired for the evening.

I undressed him to make him more comfortable, but we ultimately ended up in bed together, marking my first time. I was well aware of his intoxicated state, but my vulnerable heart yielded to his warm embraces and sweet kisses. It was a first for me.

Exhausted and physically sore from our encounter, I drifted off to sleep beside him.

We awoke to the voices of his parents, discovering us together. I had not intended for them to find out, but sometimes, life takes unexpected turns.

At that moment, Ivan was furious with me. He accused me of taking advantage of him.

"You're so desperate. I hate you!" Those were the words that escaped his lips.

His parents were extremely angry with what he said, and I could do nothing but cry in the corner while holding the blanket wrapped around me.

That day, we promptly got married at his parents' insistence and signed the marriage contract.

We moved into a separate house, and the naïve me thought we would be happy, but we weren't. Not once did he appreciate me. He never even considered me his wife, yet, treated me like a slave. Despite that, I endured it, hoping that one day he would love me.

But it's been a year, and even though he doesn't express it, I haven't yet secured a place in his heart.

It's still Maureen. She was still the one who held his heart.