Unanswered Calls

Damian’s eyes darkened, locking onto Oliver with a sneer that stripped the corridor of its sterile calm. "Even if I signed the divorce papers right this second, do you honestly think you could marry her?" The corner of Damian's mouth curled in biting mockery. "A high-born, arrogant woman who fell off her prestigious pedestal. A woman who has already been married. Your family wouldn't let her past the front gates."

Oliver stiffened. The words hit their mark, digging into old, unhealed wounds.

Damian took a step forward, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "If you had shown a spine back then, I wouldn't have been the one forced to clean up the mess and marry her."

The accusation left Oliver rooted to the linoleum floor. The air punched out of his lungs as the stark truth sank heavily into his chest. Damian was right. When the Sterling family empire catastrophically collapsed, Serena lost her status as the perfect match for the Preston family. Oliver’s snobbish, controlling mother had immediately severed ties, desperate to distance their reputation from the ruined Sterlings. She had fawned over Serena when the money was there, but the second the bank accounts dried up, she forbade Oliver from speaking to her. When Oliver tried to fight back, they forced him onto a plane overseas.

He hadn't fought hard enough. His own pathetic lack of resolve was the reality he lived with every day. If he had planted his feet and refused to leave, his family couldn't have dragged him away. But the vile rumors had started spreading—whispers that Serena had already slept with Damian Sinclair. The gossip broke Oliver's resolve. Defeated, he caved to his mother's demands and left the country, sealing their tragic fate.

Damian did not wait for a response. He cast one final look of disgust at the broken man, arrogantly turned the handle, and stepped directly into the hospital room.

Inside, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor filled the silence. Serena lay in the stark white bed, her body heavy with profound exhaustion. She heard the click of the door and forced her eyelids open, fully expecting to see the attending physician.

Instead, a towering, imposing figure blocked the overhead light.

Serena blinked through the lingering haze. Her pulse kicked against her ribs as Damian’s sharp features came into focus. He stood at the foot of her bed, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the clinical surroundings.

"Why are you here, Mister Sinclair?" she asked. Her voice cracked, incredibly weak. She let her head fall back against the pillow, a cynical smile touching her pale lips. "Oh, I understand. You came in person just to check if I am finally dead. Since we can't seem to finalize this divorce, leaving you a widower must look like a very convenient alternative."

Damian's jaw clenched. The temperature in the room plummeted. "Serena Sterling." His tone held a freezing, authoritative warning.

Serena did not flinch. Her dark eyes, a stark, haunting contrast to her sick face, stared back at him. She looked hollowed out, her skin ashen and fragile against the hospital sheets. She teetered dangerously on the brink of fainting, struggling to draw in oxygen.

Noticing her extreme pallor and erratic gasps, Damian reined in his temper. The harsh lines of his face smoothed out just a fraction. He stepped closer to the bed. "What exactly happened?" he demanded.

Speaking just those few words had drained her. She waited for the spinning in her head to stop. When she finally met his gaze again, her hoarse voice held nothing but challenge. "If I tell you the truth, are you actually going to do something about it? Will you make it right?"

Damian scowled, aggressively demanding an explanation. "You haven't even told me what happened."

She drew in a shaky, breathless gasp, the memory of the icy water biting at her skin all over again. "Shortly after you left the banquet, Chloe deliberately pushed me into the outdoor pool."

Damian’s brow furrowed. "I thought you knew how to swim."

"The water was freezing," Serena said, her voice devoid of emotion. "I got a severe leg cramp the second I went under. I couldn't kick. I couldn't breach the surface." She locked eyes with him, making sure he heard every word. "Chloe didn't just refuse to help. She stood at the edge and took photos of me drowning. She watched me sink until the rescuers finally pulled me out and rushed me to the ER."

Damian stood perfectly still. The silence stretched between them, deep and thoughtful. He stared down at her bruised, exhausted face, processing the raw confession. A moment later, he slowly reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his phone.

Serena turned her head away, her temple resting against the cool pillow. She absolutely could not handle a screaming confrontation in her terrible, weakened state. "If you are planning to call Chloe in here, save it. Stop. I don't have the energy to deal with her right now. Look at me. I can barely keep my eyes open."

Damian paused. His thumb hovered over the screen. He surprisingly obliged, lowering the device. "I understand."

He didn't argue. He didn't turn around and walk out. Instead, he pulled up the visitor's chair and took a seat directly beside her hospital bed. Serena didn't have the strength to question him. She closed her eyes, willing sleep to take over and pull her away from his presence.

Just as the edges of her mind began to blur, a persistent vibration buzzed through the quiet room.

Damian’s cell phone lit up in his hand. He glared at the screen, and a deep frown carved into his forehead. He stood up abruptly, the legs of the chair scraping against the linoleum floor.

"I am going outside to take this call," Damian stated, glancing down at her. "I will be back soon."

Serena kept her eyes shut, offering no response as his footsteps retreated. The moment he exited the room, she forced herself to roll over. Her muscles screamed in protest, but she reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed her waterproof phone sitting on the metal nightstand. The screen lit up instantly. She hadn't set a passcode.

Her thumb hovered over the notification panel. She opened her recent call history. A bitter laugh caught in her throat.

The screen was flooded with frantic, unanswered calls forcefully made to Damian’s number. Dozens of them. They had all been placed hours ago, right around the time the paramedics pulled her out of the water. The desperate rescuers had used her phone, trying to reach her husband while she choked on pool water and slipped out of consciousness.

None of the calls had been answered.

Serena narrowed her eyes, profound, biting bitterness pooling in her chest. She knew exactly what had happened. He had purposely ignored her dying calls. Whenever they argued, whenever she tried to contact him, Damian would silence his phone. If she pushed too hard, he would turn the device off out of pure annoyance over their previous arguments.

He had treated her dying moments like just another nagging inconvenience.

She tossed the phone back onto the nightstand. A cold ache settled in her chest. She coldly assumed he was only wandering the halls of this hospital right now because Vivian had an appointment, not because he actually gave a damn about his wife.

The door opened again. Serena braced herself, but it was Oliver. He returned, followed closely by the attending doctor holding a clipboard.

"Miss Sterling's fragile condition has somewhat stabilized," the doctor finally confirmed after checking the monitors. "The oxygen levels are back to normal. She just needs rest to recover from the shock and muscle fatigue."

Oliver nodded, relief washing over his features. "Thank you, Doctor."

Once the physician slipped out, Oliver noticed Damian was gone. His brows drew together. "Where is Damian? I thought he came in here."

"He stepped out to take a call," Serena replied, her tone flat. "I guess he is busy."

Oliver’s jaw tightened. He held back the curse on the tip of his tongue. He stepped closer to the bed, gently offering a solution. "I will stay the night with you. I can sleep on the chair."

Serena weakly shook her head. Even that small movement made her dizzy. "No, Oliver. You should go home."

"Serena, please. Let me do this."

"We might be old friends," she told him gently, "but I lost my memories. I don't really know you anymore. To me, you are a stranger." She pulled the blanket up to her chest. "Furthermore, I am still a legally married woman. It is inappropriate for us to share a room alone. You need to leave."

Oliver opened his mouth to argue, but the stubborn glint in her eyes stopped him. Knowing her stubbornness, he let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. You don't have to push me away. I promise to visit you tomorrow. Press the call button if you need the nurses."

"Goodnight, Oliver."

He offered a sad smile, turned around, and left.

The room fell into complete, heavy silence. The minutes ticked by, turning into hours. Damian, despite his explicit promise, had not returned at all. The chair beside her bed remained empty. The shadows in the corner of the room lengthened.

Deeply exhausted, Serena's eyelids grew too heavy to fight. The adrenaline faded, leaving nothing but bone-deep fatigue. She sank into the mattress, drifting off into a heavy sleep.

An unknown period of time passed in the dark. The hospital ward was pitch black, quiet as a tomb.

Then, the silence violently shattered.

*Thud!*

The deafening sound of the heavy door being aggressively slammed open ripped through the quiet room.