Drowning Him In Regret

Chapter 4 Sign It Myself

Jude didn't come home that night. He was still glued to Vivian's side, playing her personal hero.

The company group chat was a dumpster fire, everyone piling on with their hot takes.

[Mr. Carson's gotta chill, man. A little scrape, and he's carting her to the hospital?]

[That's his golden girl, idiots. Dude was sweating bullets.]

[Was Ada at the office to drag the sidepiece or what?]

[Heard she only wanted 30 grand. Kinda sad, right? I priced Vivian's necklace- 65 grand, no cap.]noveldrama

I killed the app, a bitter smirk twisting my mouth.

The "CEO's wife," some pathetic sob story? Please. That was rich.

The noise yanked me awake, and sleep wasn't happening. So, I started packing.

This wasn't my first hospital go-around-I could've done it in my sleep. I grabbed my stuff with cold, practiced hands.

Everything at home was Jude's idea of "classy." Silk sheets that cost more than my rent back in the day, fluffy duvets, even the tissues were some fancy imported bullshit.

I jammed it all into my suitcase, no guilt. Hospitals would rob you blind, and I wasn't wasting a dime.

Sure, I had that hundred grand now, but what if surgery hit me with some nasty surprise?

In there, cash burned faster than I can blink. I'd rather hoard it than get caught short.

My jewelry was a joke-barely enough to fill a thimble. I stood by the cabinet, glaring at the electronic lock, then let it go.

Smash it? Yeah, that'd probably screw me out of the operating room entirely.

Instead, I dug through my little box and pulled out some basic gold studs and a diamond ring so small it was practically invisible.

Jude said it was the ring-the one he scraped together to propose with back when we were nobodies.

God, he must've starved for months to buy it. I slipped it on, my heart giving a stupid little twist.

It was worthless now-pawn it, and I'd be lucky to get gas money. The setting was so tacky it was almost funny.

But it's something. Maybe my last-ditch shot if shit hits the fan.

Bags packed, I started hunting for a caregiver who wouldn't cost an arm and a leg. Then sunrise crept in.

My doctor called, sounding like he'd just won the lottery. "I've got admissions sorted. Get over here and sign the forms."

"Drop ten thousand up front, and we'll stick you in a shared room. You can go halves on a caregiver with the other patient."

He knew I was scraping by and had every cheap trick in the book ready for me.

I muttered thanks, dragging my suitcase to the door.

Just as I was about to ditch, a pitiful whimper hit me from next door.

The neighbor's door swung open with a bang, and Toto, that giant dork of a dog, came barreling toward me, yowling like I was ghosting him for good.

I dropped to my knees, choking back a sob, and hugged his giant head. "Be good, buddy. Mommy's coming back soon, I swear. You hang in there."

And if I didn't, you better live your best life.

The neighbor lady hovered, like she was swallowing something heavy. "Hold up, kid," she said, voice soft.

She shuffled back inside, and when she came out, she was holding this cheesy talisman, the kind that screams dollar-store spiritual.

"Snagged this for you on that hike last week," she said, shoving it into my palm. "Keeps the bad luck away, got it? Stay safe."

I eyed the thing "Luck" scratched across it, but missing the k. I forced a smile and nodded.

She was a sweetheart, even though her taste in talismans was crap. Toto's in good hands with her, no question.

I turned, stepped into the elevator, and squeezed the talisman till my knuckles whitened. That misspelled "Luck" stared back at me, taunting.

A dumb, desperate thought hit me like a punch-if luck's missing a piece, maybe I

got to cheat fate and stick around a little longer?

With the doctor's prep, I breezed through hospital check-in.

Stretched out on the bed, staring down tomorrow's surgery, I felt oddly grounded, like I could breathe for the first time in weeks.

I must've nodded off, because next thing I knew, I was dreaming-back at the school gate, loitering for Jude to show up after his shift.

He'd always roll in with those dirt-cheap cheese tarts I pretended to be obsessed with.

Real talk? They tasted like cardboard laced with fake vanilla, but at a buck a pop, I wasn't complaining.

I'd choke one down, acting like it was gourmet, and Jude would flash this dorky grin that lit up his whole face. He was stupidly hot when he smiled like that, and it always made my heart do this annoying little flip.

Then my phone rang. I grabbed it without thinking. "Hey, Jude, grab me a blueberry tart, kay? Get there early before they sell out."

There was a pause, like he was caught off guard, then his voice came through, all soft and steady. "Yeah, alright. I got you."

I rolled over, sinking back into the haze. A good dream, for once. Fucking miracle.

Morning hit, and I woke up weirdly amped, like I'd chugged a Red Bull. The nurse clocked my mood and grinned. "Well, girl, you're vibing today! Surgery's gonna be a slam dunk."

But then the doctor stormed in, face like a thundercloud, and ruined it. "Ada, I don't care what your deal is, but it's surgery day. No family? Really? Someone's gotta sign these papers.”

I stared at my feet, irritation sparking in my chest. Family? What a load of shit. I didn't have anybody-nobody except Jude.

The doctor clocked my vibe, sighed like I was his problem child, and muttered, "Sort it out. We're slicing you open soon." Then he bailed, leaving me to marinate in my own dread.

I glanced at my phone, my stomach twisting into knots.

What if this was it? What if I didn't wake up? The thought sank its teeth into me, cold and sharp, and wouldn't let go.

Then my phone buzzed-Jude's name flashing. My heart did a pathetic lurch, and I answered way too fast, voice all bright and desperate. "Jude!" "What the hell, Ada?" he barked, sounding like he was ready to throw hands. "You screwing with me? Said you wanted those goddamn tarts, and now you're MIA? Where the hell you at?"

My brain short-circuited. Yesterday's call-it wasn't a dream. Jude really called. He really went and bought those tarts, probably stood in line for them like an idiot. Tears burned my eyes, spilling over before I could stop them. The doctor's words echoed, heavy as a brick. I tried to talk, my voice cracking. "Jude, I'm—”

"Jude, these tarts are so good, oh my God!" Vivian's voice cut in, all fake-sweet and territorial, like she was rubbing it in my face.

My chest caved. I smashed the end call button, my hands shaking.

So that's how it was. He got her now, brought her into his world.

I forced myself to breathe, slipped on my shoes, and dragged my ass to the

doctor's office. My voice came out flat, hollow, like it wasn't even mine. "Doc, I'm signing the papers myself."