Light Fades on a Lost Love

I'm in the middle of my pediatric shift when an emergency call comes in.

A three-year-old boy arrives, hemorrhaging and unconscious from a car crash, but there is no matching blood type in the bank.

Then, it hits me that my husband, Ethan Stone, has the same blood type, so I ask him to donate blood right away.

When he arrives and stands frozen to the spot, I can no longer hold back my rage. "What are you waiting for? Saving his life is the priority here!"

That's when the boy's mother sprints over and screams, "No! Close family can't donate! He's the boy's father!"

Those words struck me like lightning, and I stood frozen to the spot.

Just then, Ethan Stone's driver came breathlessly running over. "I have type O blood, Dr. Reid! I can donate!"

My eyes were bloodshot as I forced back my shudders and entered the operating room.

After three hours of surgery, the boy finally pulled through. Huge beads of sweat dripped down my forehead as I peeled off my gloves.

The moment I stepped out of the operating room, Ethan grabbed my shoulders and asked, "How's the boy?"

My bloodshot eyes startled him a little as I gave a weak nod, feeling utterly drained of every ounce of strength.

Seeing me head out, Ethan quickly followed and draped his coat over my shoulders. "Your shift's over, right? Let me take you home."

He opened the front passenger door like he always did, but I walked past him and slid into the back seat instead.

The moment I sat down, exhaustion hit me so hard I could barely keep my eyes open. Somehow, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a toy block under the seat.

In a daze, I recalled what Chloe Harper had said when she rushed her son into the hospital. "Hang in there, Peanut! Daddy promised to take you out every weekend, so you can't break his promise for him!"

Back then, I had no idea Ethan was his father and even felt sorry for him. But now that I did, I finally understood why Ethan always had business trips every weekend.

Those trips were family weekends meant for just the three of them.

When we pulled up at the apartment, Ethan opened the door and helped me out. But right after I'd just settled on the couch, he was ready to leave.

I glanced at the empty dining table and couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you going to cook tonight?"

I was always so busy at work that forgetting to eat was a normal occurrence. That worried Ethan so much that he'd pick me up from work and make me dinner every night.

But tonight, he obviously wasn't in the mood to cook.

Frowning, he glanced at his phone. "Just order takeout. I've got something I need to take care of, so don't wait up."

Then, he turned and left before I could say a word. That scene