Chapter 2Consumed by the Sea of Fire

Dr. Evans took one look at the situation and immediately began organizing. He rallied a few of the braver onlookers, and together, they managed to pull me free of the wreckage.

The second I was dragged to safety, the car erupted in a massive fireball, swallowing itself in flames.

With practiced hands, Dr. Evans began assessing my injuries. A small crowd of good Samaritans huddled around us, their voices a worried murmur.

“Why would anyone let a pregnant woman drive by herself? Her family must be out of their minds!”

“Is she okay? I called 911, but the line was busy forever. When I finally got through and gave the location, they told me to stop playing games and hung up before I could even say ‘car crash’! What kind of psychos are they hiring at that hospital?”

“Honey, you shouldn’t be out alone when you’re this far along. You look like you could go into labor any second. What’s your husband’s number? I’ll call him for you.”

The genuine concern in their voices, from the very people who had been too afraid to approach just moments before, brought a lump to my throat.

I shook my head weakly, the tearing pain in my body a dull roar in the background.

Even total strangers on the street could show me this much kindness.

Yet the man I’d been married to for seven years was ready to sacrifice me and our child for the woman who had once shattered his heart.

The seven-year itch… it was more like a fatal poison.

It felt like fate was slapping me in the face, showing me just how blind and foolish I had been.

No one else seemed to notice, but with every comment from the crowd, Dr. Evans’s expression grew darker and darker.

After a quick examination, he pulled out his own phone and dialed the ER. The moment the call connected, his voice boomed with fury.

“Get an ambulance to the main intersection, now! Are you all blind? Didn't you hear about the crash? If I hadn't been passing by on my way to work, we'd be looking at a body! How many goddamn calls does it take to get you people to do your job? Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Do you have any idea how critical the ER is? If you can't handle the pressure, then pack your bags and get the hell out!”

Five minutes later, I was being loaded into an ambulance. Just then, my phone, which someone had recovered, started ringing. Dr. Evans kindly answered it and held it to my ear.

The voice on the other end was Alex’s, and it was filled with rage. A shiver of pure dread ran down my spine.

“You called the department again? Seriously, Clara? When are you going to stop this? I told you I was busy today! Why do you always have to bother me at the worst possible time? The baby’s almost here, act like a goddamn adult for once!”

“My job is stressful enough without you calling over every little thing! Can’t you function without me for five minutes? Every woman on the planet gets pregnant, but you’re the only one who acts like a complete psycho!”

“If I hadn't come over here today, Eliza would have bled out! Do you get that? Can’t you be considerate for once in your life? I’ll come home when I’m done. Stop bothering me!”

I could hear Eliza’s faint, pitiful sobs in the background.

After his tirade, without asking a single question about why I might be calling, without giving me a chance to speak, he hung up.

The image of his cold, merciless face from my past life flooded my mind. Tears streamed from my eyes, soaking the gurney pad. My breathing hitched, ragged and shallow.

A violent contraction seized my womb, and I finally felt it.

A warm gush of crimson blood mixed with amniotic fluid, spreading beneath me.

But even this pain was nothing compared to the agony of a thousand cuts he had inflicted upon me before.

As they wheeled me into the ER, the colleague who had taken my call saw my pale, blood-streaked face on the gurney. Her eyes went wide with horror.

She rushed over, stammering apologies, claiming she thought the car crash was just another one of my excuses to find Alex, that hanging up on me was all a terrible misunderstanding.

Dr. Evans, sensing something was deeply wrong, questioned her. That’s when he learned that I was Alex Monroe’s wife of seven years.

His face turned purple with rage. He immediately pulled out his phone and dialed Alex.