Too Late For Regret: My Genius Wife

Severe pain.

Kelly felt a serrated knife stirring inside her lower abdomen, scraping against the walls of her uterus.

Carie staggered through the automatic door of the emergency room in Lenox Hill, her hands clutching her stomach and her knuckles turning white.

A blurry sterile white light flashed in her eyes, and the pungent smell of disinfectant water burned her nasal passages, making her head start to hurt.

"Ma'am?" The nurse's voice was sharp: "Are you okay, ma'am! "

"Help," Kelly whispered, but the voice was engulfed by a loud roar in her ears. She felt a warm, sticky liquid gushing from between her legs, soaking her jeans and running down her thighs.

It's all blood.

The nurse arrived immediately, her hand grabbing Carie's arm and helping her into the wheelchair. The vinyl seat was cold against her hot skin.

A few minutes later, a doctor leaned over her. His face was gloomy, a mask of professional detachment, which frightened Carie more than pain.

"Mrs. Flynn, you're bleeding profusely." He said, his voice short. "The fetus cannot be saved. We need immediate curettage (D&C) to stop the bleeding. I need your signature. "

He pushed a folder in front of her. The paper was new, and the black ink of the consent form was blurred under the harsh fluorescent light.

Medical referral.

She needs Erik.

Her trembling fingers fumbled with her phone in her coat pocket. The screen lights up and dazzles brightly. She called his private number.

A bell rang. Two bells rang.

Click.

"You've connected to Erik Flynn's voicemail. Please ......"

She hung up the phone and sobbed like a jagged stone.

She dialed Julian, Erik's administrative assistant. He answered the phone when it rang.

"Mrs. Flynn?" Julian's voice was tight and anxious.

"Julian, let Eric answer the phone. Now. I'm in the hospital. I'm losing ......" Carie couldn't finish the words. A sharp pain hit her, and she curled up in her chair.

"I...... I can't, ma'am," Julian stammered. "Mr. Flynn is upstairs. He issued a strict order not to disturb him. This is an agreement with Ms. Christian. "

Upstairs.

He was in this building.

Another bout of pain hit, this time more intense, leaving her breathless. She clenched her lip until she tasted blood.

She let go of her phone. The phone fell on the linoleum floor with a clicking sound.

She snatched the pen from the nurse's hand. Her signature is scribbled and twisted, a testament to her trembling hands and broken heart.

"Do it," she gasped.

The nurse looked at Carie with pity. She hated that kind of look. That's worse than pain.

They pushed her into the operating room. The lights above my head are dazzling, like looking directly at the sun.

"Countdown from ten," says the anesthesiologist.

She puts her hand on her flat stomach. It feels empty. Icy cold.

"I'm sorry," she thought, a tear sliding down her hairline. "I'm really sorry."

Darkness consumes her.

She woke up to the rhythmic beeping of her monitor. Her body felt hollowed out and scraped clean. The anesthetic left a metallic taste in her mouth.

She was in the recovery room. The room was as cold as an ice cellar. Her head ached, and a sharp pain came from the depths of her lower abdomen, a vague echo of the previous pain. Her limbs were heavy, and it took a lot of strength to even shift her gaze.

She reached for her phone on the bedside table. She taps the screen.

Zero missed calls. Zero messages.

Another nurse walked in and checked the infusion bag hanging above her.

"Where is my husband?" Her voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against a stone.

The nurse did not look up from her medical record book. "Oh, Mr. Flynn? He was also on the VIP floor. The maternity ward is chaotic tonight. He had been there for hours, supporting Ms. Christian. "

Her heart stopped. It did miss a beat and hit her ribs in pain.

"Support her?"

"Yes, her birth was difficult. He was very devoted to his sister-in-law. "

A cold fury, sharper than any physical pain, began to condense inside Carie. Her vision blurred for a moment, and the room tilted as she got up, and a wave of nausea came over her. She pulled the infusion needle out of her hand.

Blood gushed out, and a bright red bead of blood turned into a thin stream that dripped onto the white sheets.

"Ma'am! You can't-"

"Don't touch me," Carie said. Her voice was low and murderous.

Every step exerted a huge amount of effort, fighting the vertigo of her weak body. She swayed, holding on to the bed frame, then the wall, breathing fast and heavy. Stepping barefoot on the floor, feeling like ice, a chill rushed down her spine, temporarily clearing the fog from her mind. She walked. She no longer felt pain in the uterus. She no longer felt dizzy. She only felt a cold and firm determination.

She took the elevator to the top floor. VIP ward area.

The elevator door slid open and the atmosphere changed. Filled with the fragrance of expensive lilies and new life.

She heard it first, then she saw it. Baby's cry. Sharp and demanding.

Then there was laughter. Warm, full laughter.

She moved behind a massive load-bearing column, her back clinging to the cold marble. She poked her head out from the edge.

The door of Suite 1 is closed.

She saw him.

Erik sat in a leather armchair with his blazer thrown aside. He held a swaddle in his arms and shook it gently.

His face changed. The sharp lines of his jaw softened. He looks...... With love. He looks like the kind of father he promised Carie yesterday that he wanted to be.

Athena lies in a hospital bed, pale but beautiful, like the heroine of a tragedy in a Victorian novel. She reached out and placed her hand on Erik's forearm.

"Thank you, Eric," she said softly. Her voice was weak and panting.

Erik didn't withdraw his hand. He leaned down and smiled at the baby. "He's a little fighter, Athena. Garfield would be proud of him. "

Carie felt burned from all inside. It is no longer physical pain. But her soul was torn apart.

He was playing house with the woman who had made her live like hell, holding her child in her arms, while her own child was scraped in the basement.

Julian walked out of the room with two cups of coffee. He almost bumped into Carie.

"Mrs. Flynn?" Julian's eyes widened. He looked at her hospital gown, with blood stained in front of her, and her naked feet.

Carie brings a finger to her lips. Her eyes were lifeless.

"Not a word," she whispered.

In the room, Athena spoke again. "I really don't know what to do without you, Eric. You are the only family we have left. "

"I'm not going anywhere," Erik promised. He tucked the blanket over her shoulder.

That's all. The last string broke.

She didn't break in. She didn't scream. She just turned around.

"Please, ma'am, let me go and get the car over," Julian whispered, his eyes filled with panic.

"Go to death, Julian," Carie said.

She walked to the stairwell. She went down layer after layer until her legs were hot. Every step sent a sharp pain through her abdomen, but the burning sensation in her chest was an even more powerful motivation.

She went to the dressing room on the ground floor and changed back into her clothes. Her jeans were stiff from dried blood. She still put it on.

She took out her phone.

Settings. Emergency contacts. Erik Flynn. Delete.

She opens the photo album. Select all. Delete.

She walked out of the revolving door and into the night of Manhattan.

The cold wind hit her like a heavy blow. Snowflakes swirled around her, stinging her bare skin. It was a snowstorm.

She breathed heavily, and a chill slid down her spine. She was weak, bleeding, and alone. But a strong determination as cold as snow took root deep within her. She needed to leave and go to a place where she could breathe and think.

Her phone was buzzing. Katy, her best friend, sent a message. 'Where are you?' I'm worried about you. '

She replied, 'Hospital. Need you. As soon as possible. '

A few minutes later, a familiar black G-Class off-road vehicle (G-Wagon) pulled up to the side of the road. Katy, wearing a fur-lined parka, jumps out of the car with worry written on her face.

"Carie! What happened? She gasped at the sight of Carie's pale face and faint blood on her jeans. She didn't wait for an answer, her eyes swept over Carie's messy look.

"Drive," Carie said hoarsely, her voice stuck in her throat.

Katy opens the passenger door and almost helps Carie into her seat. She threw Carie's blood-stained bag in the back. As she slid into the driver's seat, she glanced at the towering boulder of glass and lights-Lenox Hill Hospital.

"Where are you going?" She asked, her voice tense.

"Long Island," Carie said, her voice firmed with new determination. "The Hamptons."

The car drove away, and Kelly left her husband completely behind and left with a longing for her child.

The car slowly stopped outside the wrought iron gate of Flynn Manor.

Carie's lower abdomen aches and aches, dull and persistent, reminding her of the emptiness within.

"I'm home."

She said softly, and then got out of the car.

She didn't turn on the light in the foyer. She groped in the familiar darkness with her memory, her hand sliding up along the mahogany handrail.

In the master bedroom, she pulls her black Rimowa suitcase from the closet.

She didn't pack everything. She didn't want everything.

She threw in jeans, sweaters, underwear. Essentials.

She looked at the dresser. Erik gave her diamond earrings on their first anniversary. Sapphire necklace for Christmas.

She left them behind. They are all lies.

She grabbed her passport from the safe. She took the folder containing her birth certificate and some old documents she had been hiding.

The headlights swept across the bedroom ceiling. The roar of the Aston Martin engine cuts through the silence.

He is back.

She didn't stop packing. Just as the bedroom door slammed open, she zipped up her suitcase.

Eric stood there. He looked disheveled, with a loose tie and his hair disheveled by the wind.

But the first thing that hits the nose is the smell.

Beneath the smell of a winter storm, he smells of hospital disinfectant water and baby powder.

Bile rushed down her throat.

"What the hell are you doing?" Eric asked. He kicked the door shut. "Julian says you're in the hospital. I called the front desk and they said you were discharged from the hospital on your own against the doctor's orders. "

Kelly straightened up. The room was slightly dizzy, but she locked her knees.

"I'm leaving, Eric."

He let out a piercing laugh of disbelief. He walked to the dresser and began to unbutton his shirt.

"Stop acting, Kelly. It's late. Athena had a bad night with the kids. She had a nervous breakdown. I have been dealing with the doctor and her for twelve hours. "

"Athena," Kelly repeated. The name tastes like ashes.

"Yes, Athena. She needs support. She had no one around her. "He threw his shirt on the chair." Then I got a call from Julian saying that you were running around in the emergency room yelling at me? What is it this time? Migraine? Or dysmenorrhea? "

He turned to face her, his eyes cold and full of accusations.

"You know, the timing is questionable. Even for you. Trying to steal the show on the day my brother's child was born? "

"That's what you think?" Kelly asked. Her voice was dangerously calm.

"I think you're trying to renegotiate the prenuptial agreement," Eric scoffed. He took a step closer to her. "Do you think I'll sympathize with you if you pretend to be a medical emergency? I know you, Kelly. You can't wait to make money. "

Her stomach churned. The physical disgust was so strong that she took a step back.

"Do you think I'm pretending to be sick?"

"Isn't it?" He reached out and ran his fingers over the sleeves of her coat. "Take off your coat, Kelly. You can't go anywhere. "

His touch was like an electric shock. But not that good feeling. It was like touching a live wire.

She didn't think. Her body reacts before the brain processes instructions.

She waved her right hand.

Snap!

The sound was like a gunshot in a quiet room.

Her palm, with all the strength left in her, landed heavily on his cheek.

Eric's head slammed to the side.

He froze. The silence that followed was deafening.

Slowly, he turned to look at her. A bright red handprint was blooming on his cheek. His eyes widened, filled with shock and rising anger.

"You just ...... Hit me? He touched his face, as if to check for blood.

Her hands hurt hot. It throbs with the heartbeat.

"I've had enough," Kelly said. Her voice was smooth. "We're done. I want a divorce. "

Eric stared at her for a second, and then he smiled. It was a cruel and cruel laugh.

"Divorce? You? He shook his head. Kelly, look at yourself. You have nothing. You are nothing without me. The prenuptial agreement is ironclad. You leave this house and you will leave with nothing. You will live on the streets. "

"I don't care," Kelly said.

She grabbed the handle of the suitcase.

She walked towards him. He blocked her way, and his tall body blocked the doorway.

"Get out of the way," she said.

"How about otherwise?"

She slammed her shoulder into his chest. It was a pathetic attempt, but sheer audacity made him stumble back.

She pushed him away and walked over.

"If you walk out of that door," Eric growled behind her, his voice trembling with anger, "you don't want to come back when you have no money! "

She didn't look back. She walked into the hallway, the wheels of her suitcase humming on the hardwood floor.

She walked to the top of the stairs.

Brandee Flynn was standing at the bottom of the stairs with her arms crossed, blocking her way.

"Get out of the way." Carie said softly.

Carie stopped.

Brandee stands at the foot of the stairs like a drip-mouth beast in Chanel. She handed her mink coat to a maid and did not take her eyes off Carie for a moment.

Her gaze swept over the suitcase in Carie's hand, the corners of her mouth curled upwards.

"Where are you going?" She dragged her voice out and said, "Or is this another tantrum you're seeking attention?" "

Carie didn't answer.

She held the handle of her suitcase tighter and began to walk down the stairs.

As she reached the last step, Brandy stood sideways, blocking Kali's path. She raised a manicured hand.

"Put the bag down, Carie."

"Please let me go." Carie said, trying to get around her.

She moved again, blocking her with her body. I said, put it down. The chef is off tonight. Athena needs her bone broth. Organic, grass-fed. You know the recipe. "

Carie stared at her. "You want me to make soup?"

"This is the least you can do." Brandy said sharply, "Since you obviously can't provide an heir for this family, you can at least serve a woman who is recovering." "

Carie looked up and looked upstairs.

Her husband, Erik, was standing at the top of the stairs, watching.

He had one hand in his pocket and even a glass of whiskey in the other.

Nausea.

Carie loosened the handle of the suitcase. The suitcase "banged" and fell on the steps.

"Okay." She said. A strange calm enveloped her. It was the calm of a hurricane's eye.

Brandi smiled sarcastically. "Good girl. Don't take too long. "

She turned around and walked proudly to the restaurant.

Carie walks into the kitchen. It was a chef's kitchen with sparkling stainless steel and copper utensils.

On the cooking table, the ingredients are already laid out.

Expensive beef bones, organic vegetables. Heavy Le Creuset enamel pot.

She turned on the gas stove. She turned the flame up to the maximum.

She fills the pot with water. She didn't put the bones.

She just let the water heat up.

She watched the bubbles form. First small, then big, tumbling, boiling violently. Steam began to rise, blurring the windows.

In the restaurant, she heard Brandy's voice. "She's so ungrateful, Eric. After we did so much for her. "

Carie put on insulated gloves.

The water is now boiling and tumbling, enough to cause a person to die a painful death.

She picked up the pot. Even through gloves, the pan is still heavy and hot.

She walked out of the kitchen.

Brandi sits in the main seat of a long mahogany dining table. Eric leaned against the sideboard, shaking the drink in his glass.

When she came in, they all looked up.

"It's finally here." Brandy said. Then she frowned. "That's not a soup bowl, Carie. Do you know nothing about table setting? "

Carie walked straight to the table. She didn't stop.

She looked at Brandy. She looked at Eric.

"This is your soup." She said.

She raised the pot high and slammed it into the dining table.

Wow.

The voice was deafening. The heavy enamel pot smashed the delicate porcelain ornaments. Boiling water gushes out like a geyser.

The steam billowed out, scorching and white.

"Ah!" Brandy screamed, hot water splashed on the hem of her silk dress, and she jumped away. She hurriedly stepped away from the table and stumbled over her chair.

The whiskey glass in Eric's hand fell. The cup shattered on the ground. He protected his face when the steam hit his face.

"Are you crazy?" He roared, his eyes widening.

Carie slammed off the insulated gloves on her hands and threw them into a puddle of boiling water and broken porcelain pieces.

"You want to serve?" She screamed, her voice hoarse, "I have served you for two years!" I have you treat me like servants in my own house! "

Her trembling fingers pointed at Brandy.

"You starve me! You forced me to drink those disgusting herbal mixtures until I spit it out, and told me that I was 'too acidic' to give birth to a boy! "

The maids in the corridor huddled together in fright.

"You're a waste!" Brandi screamed, covering his chest, "Street garbage!" You don't belong here! "

"You're right." Carie laughed, and that laughter sounded hysterical, "I don't belong to this incestuous, sick little kingdom you have built. "

"Incest?" Eric's face turned purple. He pounced on her. "Shut up!"

He reached for her arm.

Carie is faster.

She grabbed the half bottle of whiskey from the sideboard.

She uncorked the bottle and splashed the amber liquid directly on his face.

"Cough!" Eric choked, and the alcohol stung his eye. He staggered back, scratching his face.

She didn't wait.

She turned around sharply and strode towards the stairs. She grabbed her suitcase.

She walked to the heavy oak gate.

She grabbed the doorknob with both hands and pulled it open suddenly.

The cold wind howls and rushes into the warm foyer, with snow and ice.

"Carie!" Brandy screamed behind her.