My Ex-husband Begged me to Save Him

"Greg, save Dr. Lambert now. That concrete slab is about to collapse. It's crushing her right hand."

"Shut up. Rose has claustrophobia. The smoke is so thick here. If we don't get her out soon, she'll go into shock. Ronda is a surgeon. She has strong mental resilience. She can hold on."

The new building site of Cyburris Hospital suddenly collapsed, sending clouds of dust into the air.

Ronda Lambert was pinned beneath the reinforced concrete. A searing pain in her abdomen twisted together with a dead numbness in her right hand. Her body was long since drenched in cold sweat.

She struggled to lift her head and peered through the dust-filled gaps and saw her husband, Greg Riley, the influential hospital director, carrying another woman and rushing towards the light without looking back.

The woman was Rose Lloyd, Greg's junior from the same medical school. She had just returned to the country and joined the hospital yesterday.

"Greg..." Ronda called out.

Her voice was hoarse and broken, like it had been rubbed with sandpaper.

She wanted to tell him that if the concrete slab wasn't moved now, her right hand would be ruined, and she would never be able to perform surgery again.

She wanted to tell him she was pregnant.

But Greg's retreating figure was unwavering, without so much as a pause for her.

"Boom-" A secondary collapse struck.

The heavy concrete slab bore down again. Amidst the audible crunch of bones, Ronda's vision blackened, and consciousness slipped away.

...

When she woke again, it was in a hospital room filled with the smell of antiseptic.

Ronda moved her fingers, only to find her entire right arm numb. She couldn't feel it at all.

She sat up abruptly and lifted the blanket with her left hand, only to see her right arm wrapped in thick plaster and bandages. A lifeless silence emanated even through the gauze.

The door to the room opened, and Greg walked in, dressed in a crisp dark gray suit. He still looked exhausted.

But upon seeing Ronda awake, his expression quickly turned into his usual cold indifference and impatience.

"Are you awake? Then stop playing dead." Greg walked to the foot of the bed and casually picked up the medical chart hanging at the headboard. He flipped through a few pages and said coldly, "You have a slight concussion and ulnar nerve contusion in the right arm. Ronda, you really went all out to embarrass me in front of the media. You stayed in the debris for hours. Was it fun?"

Ronda looked at him in disbelief. Her pale lips trembled. "Greg, you're a doctor, too. You call this an ulnar nerve contusion? My hand has no feeling at all."

"That is a paralytic illusion caused by prolonged pressure." Greg snapped the medical chart shut and tossed it back onto the headboard. His piercing gaze was as sharp as a knife. "The rescue team arrived five minutes later. You refused to cooperate and chose to stay there for sympathy until I returned to get you out. Ronda, how long are you going to keep this up?"

"I chose to stay there?" Ronda trembled with anger, and tears welled up but stubbornly refused to fall. "Greg, where were you during the second collapse? You were carrying Rose out! Do you know how painful it was when that slab fell on me? Do you know my hand..."

"Enough!" Greg interrupted her harshly, his face full of disgust. "Rose just returned to the country. She is unfamiliar with the environment and suffered severe psychological trauma. It was practical to save her first. You're my wife and the head of neurosurgery. Shouldn't you be taking the high road here? Do you have to scramble for attention alongside a patient? Where's your professional ethics?"

"My professional ethics?" Ronda let out a bitter laugh. Her left hand clutched the sheet tightly. "Because I'm your wife, I deserve to be abandoned? Greg, can you afford it if my hand is truly useless?"

Greg's brows furrowed. His patience with her obstinancy was wearing thin.

"It won't be. I've had the orthopedic chief take a look. Your hand will recover after six months of recuperation. But you are so narrow-minded."

He stepped closer and looked down at her. He said with a chilling tone, "Rose had an asthma attack from the dust inhalation and is still under observation in the ICU. Since you're awake, perhaps you'd better go and apologize to her."

Ronda couldn't believe her eyes. "What did you say? You want me to apologize to her?"

"If you hadn't insisted on calling me at that moment, I wouldn't have been distracted, and Rose wouldn't have run into a dangerous area out of shock."

Greg spoke with conviction. Each of his words felt like nails piercing Ronda's heart.

"Moreover, when the rescue team carried you out, you clung to the stretcher with all your might and refused to leave. You frightened Rose. She's in a very unstable mental state now, constantly murmuring apologies to you. You'd better go and tell her that you're okay so she can recover peacefully."

"I'm not going." Ronda closed her eyes, and tears finally fell. "Greg, get out."

"Ronda!" Greg didn't expect that his usually gentle and forbearing wife dared to speak to him like that. His anger flared instantly. He grabbed her uninjured left shoulder tightly. "Don't act like this. As the spouse of the director, you must be showing leadership and compassion now, not being petty. What will people say about you if they see you like this? Rose is such a kind-hearted woman, and you caused her to be like this. Don't you feel guilty?"

"Is she kind-hearted?" Ronda's eyes snapped open, filled with hatred. "She's kind-hearted, so she entered a dangerous construction site when she was aware of danger? She's kind-hearted, so she clung to your hand, cried out in fear, and told you not to bother with me when she saw me trapped? Greg, are you blind?"

"Shut up!" Greg released his grip abruptly.

Ronda, already weak, was thrown against the iron railing of the bed with a heavy thud.

The dull sound echoed.

Ronda felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. A warm liquid flowed out instantly.

Her face turned ashen as she clutched her abdomen and curled up in agony. "It hurts! My abdomen..."

Greg looked at Ronda with more disdain. "Are you pretending again? Ronda, how many times are you going to constantly sound false alarms? Last time you pretended to have a stomachache. The time before you feigned a headache. Now you are telling me you have abdominal pain? You're a doctor. Could you at least make your act convincing?"

"Help... the baby..." Ronda was sweating from the pain. Her fingers gripped Greg's sleeve tightly, and her knuckles turned pale. "Greg, please... call the obstetrics department... I'm pregnant..."

Greg stiffened as he looked down at her pain-contorted face. A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes.

But soon he started being ironic. "Are you pregnant? You said that last time to trick me into going home, and what happened?"

Greg coldly removed her grip and continued, "Ronda, you've repeated the same lie three times this month. I don't have more patience with you. If you don't apologize to Rose, I'll cut off all the research funding for the neurosurgery department this year."

With that, he disdainfully brushed off the wrinkles from his sleeve where she had grabbed it and strode out.

"Greg!" Ronda cried out desperately, and the warm liquid beneath her kept spreading, staining her hospital scrubs and the white sheets.

That was her husband, whom she had loved for ten years.

She had fought to marry him against her family's objections back then.

To him, her life-threatening situation was a ploy for sympathy, and her unbearable pain was a poor performance. Even the baby in her womb was nothing but a tool for gaining his favor.

"Nurse... help..." Ronda mustered the last of her strength to press the call button by her bed. Her vision darkened as she became unconscious again.

Before completely losing consciousness, she heard Greg's tender voice in the hallway. He had never been so tender to her.

"Don't be afraid, Rose. I'm here. That hysterical woman is fine. She just wants to scare you... Be good. Take your medicine. I'll help you with it."

Ronda had a long dream.

In the dream, a blood-red sea spread out before her, and a baby floated on the surface. It reached out with its hands and cried for its mother.

She desperately swam towards it and wanted to grasp its hand. But just as her fingers were about to touch it, Greg's cold face suddenly appeared. He held a scalpel and ruthlessly severed the connection between her and the baby.

"Ah!" Ronda woke up screaming, drenched in cold sweat.

"Dr. Lambert, you're awake?" A young nurse stood by her bed. Her eyes were red as she changed the IV bottle for Ronda.

Seeing Ronda awake, the nurse quickly turned away to wipe her tears. She said in a choked voice, "Please try not to move. You're still very weak after the dilation and curettage procedure."

The dilation and curettage procedure.

Ronda blankly reached for her abdomen. It was as flat as ever. But she didn't feel connected to her baby anymore.

"The baby... is gone?" Ronda's voice was as light as a breeze. It seemed to dissipate at any moment.

The nurse couldn't hold back any longer and burst into tears. "Dr. Lambert, you were brought in too late... If it had been just half an hour earlier, even ten minutes earlier, the baby could have been saved. But... but...

What happened?

But her husband, the baby's father, thought she was lying and acting when her life was on the line. He shook off her hand for help and even used research funds to threaten her into apologizing to the very woman who caused this.

Besides, he had even pushed her hard against the headboard.

Ronda did not cry.

She had given up on him.

She simply stared quietly at the ceiling. The light in her eyes slowly faded away. They became lifeless in the end.

"What about my hand?" Ronda asked her second question.

The nurse's sobbing paused, and her eyes were evasive. She dared not speak.

"Tell me the truth." Ronda's voice was surprisingly calm.

The nurse bit her lip and said in a trembling voice, "The orthopedic chief just came by. He says... that your right arm's ulnar nerve is completely severed. The tendons are severely damaged. The crush fractures from the secondary compression... Even if it recovers, you... won't be able to perform surgery anymore."

It was as expected.

Ronda closed her eyes and couldn't utter a single word.

She would no longer be able to hold a scalpel.

She was the youngest neurosurgery expert in the country. Her hands had saved countless lives. They were her pride and the only dignity she had in her cold marriage.

Now, her hand was destroyed by Greg, who claimed it was "just a minor injury."

"Leave me alone. I want to be quiet," Ronda said softly.

The nurse gave Ronda a worried glance and reluctantly walked out of the room.

The ward fell into a deathly silence again.

Ronda lay on the bed as a puppet without its soul.

She didn't know how much time had passed when the door opened again.

This time, it wasn't Greg, but Rose, wearing a pink hospital gown. She looked very well.

She carried a bouquet of vibrant lilies and walked gracefully. She showed no sign of an asthma flare-up.

"Ronda, I heard you had undergone surgery? Oh dear, poor woman." Rose approached the bed and looked down at Ronda with a fake smile like a victor. "Greg is very busy looking for a psychologist abroad for me, so he couldn't come to see you. I thought I'd come on his behalf to check on you."

She casually tossed the lilies onto the bedside table. The pollen sprinkled down and landed right on Ronda's pillow.

Ronda was allergic to pollen. Greg knew it, and all the staff members of the hospital knew it.

But Rose didn't seem to know it.

"Take your trash and leave." Ronda didn't even bother to lift her eyelids.

"Ronda, don't be so angry." Rose pulled up a chair and sat closer to Ronda. She lowered her voice with a venomous boast. "You know what? Greg just promised me that once I recover, I'll be joining the neurosurgery department and taking over your position. He says your hand is useless anyway. So you cannot hold a position for nothing. It will be a waste of resources. It's better to give me the opportunity, as I am more talented."

Ronda's eyes snapped open, and she glared at Rose intensely. "What did you say?"

"I said your position is now mine."