Chapter 3Left Outside Her Car and Her Heart

I wiped away my tears and reached for my phone to call an ambulance. But fearing the cost, I eventually called an Uber to take me to the hospital instead.

As I left the house, I received a message from Sophia.

"If you're really sick, just get an ambulance to take you to the hospital."

I couldn't be bothered to say another word to her, so I just blocked her number.

While waiting for the Uber driver at the residential complex's entrance, I suddenly heard a familiar voice call out, "Jonathan, why are you squatting over there? Why did you take the day off? Why's your face so pale? Are you sick?"

I lifted my head sluggishly to see a car stop in front of me. The front passenger seat window was rolled down to reveal a familiar face—Tony.

"Yes, my stomach's upset, so I'm waiting for a ride to the hospital," I replied.

Grinning, Tony leaned against the sill and asked, "Where's your wife? Why isn't your oh-so-kind-hearted wife sending you there when you're so unwell?"

I heard the mockery in his tone and replied self-deprecatingly, "My wife's driving her colleague home."

Tony's grin widened, and he asked, "Which hospital are you going to? If it's along our route, I'll ask my girlfriend if she can give you a lift."

"Nordroi Hospital," I replied.

The woman in the driver's seat commented, "We're headed that way."

Tony cut her off. "Honey, I suddenly don't feel so well. I want to go home and lie down. What are we to do?"

His girlfriend immediately started the engine, anxious to send him home.

Tony smiled, stuck his head out the window, and said mockingly, "Dude, you're waiting for an Uber with a stomachache that bad… Your wife, on the other hand, is driving some others home."

He clicked his tongue and added, "Feel bad for you."

He tapped the car window. "I'll be off first. Maybe next time."

I clenched my fists in anger, but then quickly composed myself and shot him a smile.

"It's alright. There's no need for a next time. After all, I'm not so shameless as to jump at the chance to hitch a ride with a colleague, unlike you."

Without waiting for his response, I waved at the Uber car I'd hailed that had pulled up behind their car.

"Over here, sir!" I called out.

When I arrived at the hospital's emergency room, the doctor examined me and quickly diagnosed me with appendicitis.

"You're certainly a tough one. Your appendix was on the verge of rupturing, yet you only came to the hospital now. Do you have a family member accompanying you?"

I lay weakly on the table and shook my head. "No. I'll sign off on the surgery myself."

My marriage was just like my inflamed appendix. It was about time I cut it off.

The surgery was completed quickly and smoothly.

Before the anesthesia completely left my system, someone flung the ward door open with a bang.

Sophia rushed into the ward, breathless and visibly panicked, and ran up to my hospital bed.

When she saw my pale face and the IV connected to the back of my hand, a trace of panic and distress crossed her face.

She took my hand and exclaimed, "Jonathan! Does it still hurt? How did you end up with appendicitis? Why didn't you tell me?"

I coldly pulled my hand out of her grasp and turned away from her.

Seeing this, Sophia's regret was instantly replaced with fury.

She straightened and said accusingly, "Since you knew you were seriously ill, why didn't you call an ambulance? I heard the neighborhood security mention that you spent a long time waiting by the roadside for an Uber! Were you deliberating putting yourself through all that suffering to make me feel guilty and distressed?"

I silently watched her rant.

Eventually, I said calmly and clearly, "Sophia, let's get divorced."

Sophia was first stunned, then panicked.

She asked, "Are you angry that I didn't send you to the hospital? I know that was my mistake, so can you please quit with these kinds of jokes?"

I closed my eyes and replied, "Sophia, in the three years we've been married, I've never joked about divorce. I'm serious. Let's get divorced."