Chapter 2 - The Flight Back
"What do you mean, emergency contact?" I asked, my voice cracking over the noise of the Chicago traffic. "We’ve been divorced for three years."
"Mr. Miller," the nurse’s voice was steady, professional, but laced with an urgency that made my blood run cold. "She never updated her file. But right now, you are the only person we have on record. Sarah suffered a severe hemorrhage and collapsed at her workplace. She is currently in the Intensive Care Unit at Jackson Memorial. Can you get here?"
I didn't go back to the office.
I left my car in long-term parking, bought a ticket at the counter, and boarded the next flight to Miami. For three agonizing hours in the air, my mind replayed that morning in the hotel room.
The red stain.
The panic in her eyes.
The way she pulled the sheet up so desperately.
It hadn't been a sign of another man, or a simple accident. It had been a warning.
When I burst through the doors of the ICU, the sterile smell of bleach and iodine hit me like a physical blow. A doctor met me in the hallway. He looked exhausted, holding a tablet with Sarah's charts.
"You're the ex-husband?" he asked, studying me carefully.
"I'm Charles," I said, breathless. "What is going on? What happened to her?"
The doctor let out a heavy sigh. "Sarah has Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia. She was diagnosed eight months ago. She has been undergoing aggressive treatment here in Miami, but her platelet count dropped dangerously low. The stain you mentioned... she’s been experiencing spontaneous micro-hemorrhages. She collapsed today due to internal bleeding."
The floor seemed to drop out from underneath me.
Eight months.
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She had been fighting a terrifying, life-threatening illness entirely alone, just miles away from the life we used to share. That night on the beach, the laughter, the nostalgia—it wasn't just two exes reconnecting.
For Sarah, it had been a goodbye tour.
