\u201cTurn off the epidural.\u201d<\/p>\n
Those four words shattered the last illusion I still clung to.<\/p>\n
For a heartbeat, I thought I had misheard.<\/p>\n
The delivery room fell silent.<\/p>\n
Even through the haze of unbearable contractions, I caught the horrified glance the assisting nurse shot toward my husband.<\/p>\n
\u201cDr. Vance,\u201d she said, her voice trembling, \u201cthe baby\u2019s measurements are far beyond the expected range. Her vitals are deteriorating. We should perform an emergency C-section before\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m the attending physician.\u201d<\/p>\n
Julian didn\u2019t even let her finish.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll decide how this baby is delivered.\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice was calm. Cold. Final.<\/p>\n
I stared at him through blurred vision, waiting for the husband I\u2019d loved for seven years to look at me instead of the monitor.<\/p>\n
He never did.<\/p>\n
The antiseptic burned my nose, but it couldn\u2019t hide the metallic scent of my own blood. Every contraction felt as if my pelvis were being forced apart from the inside. My muscles shook uncontrollably, and warm sweat soaked the thin hospital gown clinging to my skin.<\/p>\n
I knew exactly what my body was trying to tell everyone.<\/p>\n
I was Aria Montgomery, Chief of Emergency Medicine.<\/p>\n
I\u2019d spent my career recognizing the earliest signs of catastrophe.<\/p>\n
And right now\u2026<\/p>\n
I was watching one happen inside my own body.<\/p>\n
\u201cJulian\u2026\u201d My voice cracked. \u201cHe can\u2019t fit. My uterus is under too much stress. Please\u2026 don\u2019t do this.\u201d<\/p>\n
He finally looked at me. Not with concern. Not with love. With irritation.<\/p>\n
\u201cAria, stop trying to run my operating room the way you run your ER.\u201d<\/p>\n
Every word struck harder than the contractions.<\/p>\n
Not because he questioned my judgment. Because he dismissed me completely.<\/p>\n
The man who once bragged that marrying another physician made him the luckiest man alive now spoke to me as if I were an inconvenience delaying his schedule.<\/p>\n
Before I could answer, Serena stepped beside him.<\/p>\n
Her eyes glistened with carefully rehearsed tears.<\/p>\n
\u201cDr. Vance\u2026 please don\u2019t be upset with Dr. Montgomery,\u201d she whispered. \u201cShe only knocked over my medication tray because she\u2019s in so much pain. It wasn\u2019t intentional.\u201d<\/p>\n
Liar.<\/p>\n
Less than a minute earlier, she\u2019d leaned over me pretending to wipe the sweat from my forehead.<\/p>\n
Instead, she\u2019d dug her sharpened nails into the tender inside of my arm until I jerked from the pain.<\/p>\n
The tray fell because of her. She knew it. I knew it.<\/p>\n
But the only opinion that mattered belonged to Julian.<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t even ask what had happened. He had already chosen who to believe.<\/p>\n
I watched him soften when he looked at Serena.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t remember the last time he\u2019d looked at me that way.<\/p>\n
Something inside me cracked.<\/p>\n
Not a bone. Not a muscle.<\/p>\n
Something far more difficult to repair.<\/p>\n
Seven years of trust. Seven years of believing that no matter what happened, my husband would stand beside me.<\/p>\n
The illusion died without making a sound.<\/p>\n
\u201cHold her still.\u201d<\/p>\n
The order echoed through the room.<\/p>\n
Three nurses hesitated. One of them swallowed hard.<\/p>\n