My Wife Saved Him, Not Me

My wife's childhood friend and I were brought into the same hospital after a car crash. I had suffered a ruptured heart and needed emergency surgery. But my wife, Cassandra, was the hospital director. Instead of treating me, she ordered every available doctor to Miles Rowland's room so he could receive a full examination for a few minor scrapes. I begged her to save me. She only snapped, "Can you stop competing for attention for once? Do you have any idea Miles almost broke a bone?" In the end, I died in a corner where nobody found me. But when the wife who hated me most learned I was really dead, she lost her mind. Chapter 1 For the final three minutes before my death, my soul drifted to my wife's side. Cassandra Beaumont sat beside Miles Rowland's hospital bed, hands clasped tightly as she stared at him with fear written across her face. "Miles, don't scare me. Please wake up." My father, who had always treated Miles like his own son, stood beside her, furious. "If that bastard Elliot had protected him properly, Miles wouldn't be lying here. Wait until I get my hands on him." I stood a few feet away and felt something bitter twist through me. Dad, you don't have to. I'm already dead. I died because none of you cared enough to look at me. Doctors crowded around Miles's bed. After confirming that he'd suffered nothing worse than a bone bruise, one of the senior physicians finally gathered enough courage to mention me. "Dr. Beaumont... are we really not treating Elliot? His injuries from the crash looked severe." The concern vanished from Cassandra's face. Disgust replaced it. "What is he doing now? Pretending he's dying? Her voice rose. "Does he have any idea what he did to Miles?" I stared at the woman I'd married. My heart was already dead, yet somehow it still seemed to ache. I was her husband. Did I truly mean nothing to her? Then Cassandra took out her phone and called me. A nurse lifted my phone to my ear. For one foolish second, some part of me still hoped I would hear concern. Instead, Cassandra's voice came through exactly as it always did. "Elliot, how long are you planning to hide before you come apologize to Miles?" That was when the last bit of hope inside me went cold. Of course. She didn't care. When I'd first been brought into the emergency department, I'd begged her to help me. She had looked at me with irritation and said, "Can you stop fighting for attention for once? Miles almost broke a bone." Then she turned around and took every doctor she could summon with her to his room. Why would she have had any love left for me? The nurse beside my bed finally couldn't take it anymore. She took the phone. "Dr. Beaumont, Elliot really is crashing." Cassandra laughed coldly. "How much did that piece of garbage pay you to help him put on this show? I didn't know he was capable of dragging hospital staff into his nonsense." At that moment, Miles finally "woke up." His voice came weak and gentle through the phone. "Cass... Gerald... how's Elliot?" Cassandra looked at him as if he were the kindest person in the world. Then her expression hardened all over again. "Elliot, why can't you be half as considerate as Miles? Look what you've done to him, and he's still asking about you. Her voice turned sharp. "You have three minutes to get over here and apologize. If you don't, don't bother coming home." She hung up, breathing hard. My father frowned beside her. "Why call him at all? Hasn't he hurt Miles enough?" Miles lowered his eyes, barely hiding the satisfaction on his face, then pulled a look of guilt over it. "Cass, Gerald, please don't be angry with him. Elliot probably gets jealous because I'm too close to all of you. I can understand why he'd blame me." I almost laughed. Even after I was dead, Miles was still poisoning them against me. But Cassandra and my father would never notice. To them, Miles had always been the obedient one. The thoughtful one. Worth ten of me. It would never occur to them that the crash had happened because their precious Miles had set it in motion. Cassandra's face turned colder. "I married Elliot. What more does he want from me? I must have been blind to ever fall for someone like him." Miles immediately softened his voice. "Don't be angry, Cass. There must be a reason he's acting this way." Her eyes gentled. "Miles, you're too kind. That's why Elliot has always taken advantage of you." That was Miles's real talent. He always knew exactly what to say to make my wife and my parents love him more. Even if I could have stood in front of them and told them every cruel thing he'd done since childhood, I already knew what would happen. They would call me a liar, jealous of Miles. Maybe they would slap me before I finished the sentence. Chapter 2 I'd been living like that for so many years that I was almost used to it. While they were still talking, my mother rushed into Miles's room and started checking him over. The moment she'd heard about the accident, she'd taken the first flight home from another state. Like Dad, she only saw the boy she'd watched grow up. Once she confirmed Miles was fine, relief washed over her face. Then she turned angry. "I've said it for years. Elliot is a curse on this family. Ever since Miles was born, how many times has Elliot hurt him?" Miles immediately leaned into the opportunity. "Please don't be mad, Marilyn. Even if Elliot caused all of this, I'm sure he didn't mean it." The entire room exploded. Dad slammed a hand against the table. "What? He did it?" Cassandra clenched her teeth. "That bastard. I'm done letting him get away with this." Mom looked as if she wanted me torn apart. Miles's expression flickered. Maybe he realized he'd pushed too hard. He hurried to backtrack. "Cass, Gerald, Marilyn, please don't be angry with Elliot. Maybe I remembered it wrong. No matter what, he's still like a brother to me. He wouldn't do something like that." Mom gently tapped his forehead. "You've always been too innocent for your own good. You don't understand how cruel people can be. Then she smiled. "I don't know what your father did to deserve a son like you. She tucked the blanket around him. "Forget Elliot. Let's focus on getting you well." Warm evening light spilled across Miles's bed. The four of them looked like a perfect family. My soul hovered at the edge of the room. I felt like an intruder in my own life. Like I had never been their son, husband, or family. Like a stray that had wandered in off the street. I wanted to leave. But my spirit seemed tethered to Cassandra. I couldn't go far, couldn't speak, couldn't stop them from tearing me apart with words. A few days later, after the whole family had fussed over him nonstop, Miles was discharged. Cassandra packed his things. Dad brought the car around so Miles wouldn't have to walk more than a few steps. Mom practically refused to let him put on his own shoes. On the drive home, Mom complained, "That Elliot really is unbelievable. Miles is already out of the hospital and he hasn't shown his face once. Not even an apology. Just wait until I get home and deal with him." Dad glanced at her. "I've always said keeping him around was asking for trouble." Deal with him. Those words hit something old inside me. Memories began to surface. Years ago, a fire had broken out at the house while Mom was unconscious. Miles had been the one who found her and pulled her out. After that, my entire family began treating him differently. From then on, I was expected to give way. Always. Once, I accidentally spilled boiling water and scalded Miles. Everyone panicked. Cassandra was young then, but she still told me there was something rotten in me. Mom cried while cleaning the burns. Dad struck me so hard that my eardrum ruptured. "You're nothing but bad luck," he shouted. "Miles is such a good kid. How could you hurt him?" I still remember the disappointment in everyone's eyes. Another time, when we were in elementary school, Miles and I fought over a toy car, and my father beat me so badly that I couldn't get out of bed for three days. It was my favorite toy. Dad had brought it back from a business trip. It had been almost an afterthought, something he bought only because he was already buying Miles a much better gift. Miles owned more toy cars than he could fit in a stack of boxes. Still, he went out of his way to take mine. We pulled it back and forth. Suddenly, Miles cried out and burst into tears. Mom immediately wrapped her arms around him and shouted at me through her own tears. "Elliot! If Miles hadn't saved me, you wouldn't even have a mom right now. Why can't you leave him alone?" "It wasn't me..." I never got to finish. Miles squeezed out a few tears. "Don't be angry, Marilyn. It was my fault. I shouldn't have caused trouble by fighting Elliot over his toy." Dad came home in the middle of it. One look at Miles crying was enough. He grabbed me and started swinging. "A cold-hearted child like you would be better off thrown out. All you do is bring trouble into this house." Chapter 3 I begged Dad to stop. The more I cried, the more convinced he became that I was pretending, and the harder he swung. Mom and a young Cassandra only stood at a distance, watching. Their faces were so cold that, even as a child, I understood something terrifying. If Dad had beaten me to death right there, some part of them might have thought I deserved it. From then on, any time I made Miles cry, my parents cursed me and beat me for it. Eventually, I stopped fighting him for anything. Attention. Affection. Possessions. Even the right to explain myself. And now, after all those years, they had left me on a cold operating table. When everyone arrived home, Miles dropped onto the couch and announced that he was hungry. Mom hurried into the kitchen, eager to show off a recipe she'd just learned. Cassandra, a woman who barely knew how to boil water at home, sat beside him scrolling through high-protein recovery meals, terrified he might be the least bit uncomfortable. Dad pulled out the keys to a brand-new luxury sedan. "Discharge gift," he said. "After what you survived, you deserve something nice." The house had even been filled with new plants, because someone had decided cleaner air would help Miles recover. All he had to do was lie on the couch, and the whole family revolved around him. My spirit came home with them. It was the house I'd grown up in. Yet it had always felt cold. The doorbell rang. A familiar figure stepped inside. My younger sister, Tessa. "Mom, Dad. I heard Miles was coming home today, so I took time off from school and brought a few things to help him recover." Miles immediately stood, playing bashful. "Tessa, you didn't have to come all this way. I'm already fine." She smiled at him sweetly. It was almost hard to connect this gentle girl with the sister who had been distant and sharp with me for years, the one who used to say I was the person she loved most. Then she suddenly asked, "Where's Elliot?" If she hadn't said my name, I suspected everyone might have forgotten I existed. Cassandra's face darkened. "Why bring him up? I criticized him for what he did and now he refuses to come home. She scoffed. "Fine. If he loves being out there so much, he can stay out there forever. He can die out there, for all I care. The house will finally be quiet, and I won't have him starting trouble for me every single day." Tessa nodded. "Probably better if he doesn't come back. He'd only disturb Miles's rest." Mom came out carrying a tray of food and laughed. "You know, compared to Elliot, Miles feels more like your brother anyway." Tessa nodded again. "I'd rather have Miles as my brother." Something sour rose from my chest into my throat. I gave a small, bitter laugh at my own expense and turned away, unwilling to look at any of them a moment longer. I was used to being unloved. That part wasn't new. After dinner, though, Cassandra became restless. She went into our bedroom alone and started searching through her phone. I drifted closer. She was looking for my number. Then she called. Again. And again. No answer. Finally, she slammed the phone down. "So now he won't even answer me? Does he really think anyone cares?" I wanted to tell her the truth. I'm dead, Cassandra. Who exactly do you expect to answer? Instead, she called the nurse who had tried to help me. "What game did Elliot tell you he was playing? Pass along a message. Tell him to stop pushing his luck, get back here, and apologize to Miles. If he does, maybe I'll allow him home." Silence filled the line. Then the nurse spoke. "Dr. Beaumont... Elliot died a week ago." Cassandra went still. "The crash ruptured his heart. But the physicians who could have treated him had all been ordered to Miles's room." The nurse's voice broke slightly. "There was no one available to perform the surgery in time."