Chapter 19 Someone Pushed Me
The nurse paused, shaking her head.
“Poor girl… she had just lost her parents, and her husband—the one she’d begged so desperately to marry—was publicly embracing another woman.
She didn’t even cry. Not a single tear. Then she just…
stood up, walked to the reception, and arranged everything for her parents’ cremation herself.
Alone. Can you even imagine that? She lost her parents in that accident, and her husband…
he was hugging another woman while her parents were dying. ”
The nurse’s eyes flicked between James, Kylie, and William, her face etched with sorrow.
She still hadn’t recognized the woman standing before her as the same actress Kylie that she had once seen on television.
Kylie had changed so much—her stardom gone, most of her wealth vanished, her once radiant appearance now faded.
It was hard to recognize the bright, wealthy woman who could command anything with a snap of her fingers as the girl in front of her, who looked like she had been reduced to living in the slums.
The nurse continued. “I remember her years ago when her father was admitted here after his heart attack. She would come every day to be with him—so lively, so playful, with a smile that could light up the room. But the night her parents died… she was unrecognizable. If it weren’t for that familiar youthful face, I would have thought she was someone else entirely.
The rich, beautiful young girl I once knew…
reduced to nothing but a shadow of someone else’s family.
It’s true—only your own family truly cherishes you.
To everyone else, you’re just a stranger’s child, not yours. ”
Her tongue clicked in pity. “That young girl had been so excited to marry that man… and he turned her into a hollow shell. It was as if her soul had left, leaving only the body behind.”
James’s body trembled violently. He could barely stand. His chest tightened, and the tears ran freely down his face. Every word from the nurse was a dagger to his heart. His chest heaved with unbearable guilt and grief.
The nurse continued, softer now, almost tenderly. “But there is one more thing that I do remember. That night, right after her parents died… she spoke to an old nurse she had known from her father’s frequent checkups. She said… she only wanted to say one thing to her husband before she left him.”
James froze. His breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened, desperation overtaking him. “What… what did she say? Tell me!”
The nurse flinched at his sudden outburst, stepping back slightly. Her voice was calm but wary. “I… I don’t know. I wasn’t there. I only heard her say it to the old nurse. I had to attend to patients, so I didn’t hear what she told the other nurse.”
James’ hands shook violently, barely able to hold onto the edge of the bed. “Where… where is that nurse?” he demanded, his voice trembling with raw urgency.
The nurse looked at James, her eyes heavy with sorrow and disbelief. ‘How could she have a man who loves her this much… and then marry that bastard who chose an actress over her? This man must be in so much pain thinking about his lover being in an unhappy marriage,’ she thought bitterly.
She pointed toward the door. “All the nurses are still here. She’s at the reception. You can go talk to her. Her name is Naomi.”
James’ eyes immediately flickered toward the door. Ignoring the pain in his body, he spun around and ran, stumbling as his body shook. William followed closely behind, matching his hurried steps. Kylie, tense and frozen for a moment, finally followed after them.
James burst into the reception area, scanning the nurses’ name tags. “Who’s Naomi? Which one of you is Naomi?” he demanded, his voice sharp and urgent.
A younger nurse looked at him in shock and pointed toward an older woman standing nearby. “That’s her… that’s Naomi. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
James strode forward, stopping in front of her. His chest heaved as he asked, voice trembling with desperation, “You know Mia… Mia Bennett, right? A few days ago, she said there was one thing she wanted to say to her husband before leaving him. What exactly did she say to you?”
Naomi, elderly but sharp-eyed, blinked at him in surprise. She stepped closer to the desk, her voice measured but sharp. “Who are you to her?”
“I am her husband,” James said, his voice shaking, eyes never leaving hers.
Her expression shifted instantly—disappointment, disbelief, anger—all flashing across her face in a heartbeat.
She raised an eyebrow, her voice sharp and incredulous. “You… her husband? How could you be her husband?”
She let out a harsh breath, anger spilling over like a storm.
“How could you be her husband? When she was helpless, terrified, crying over her parents…
where were you? When she was hurt, injured, alone at the hospital…
every single time she came here in pain, she insisted on leaving early, saying she needed to reach home for her husband.
She kept repeating your name—over and over—even when she was suffering. And you were nowhere!"
Her words came faster now, each syllable cutting deep. “I even thought her husband was already dead.”
“Hey! Are you out of your mind?” William suddenly shouted at Naomi, stepping forward. “Watch what you’re saying!”
James lifted a hand, blocking William mid-word, eyes never leaving Naomi. His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “Please… continue.”
The nurse’s gaze blazed, anger radiating from every line of her face. “I know you come from wealth. Your status, your power… all of it far above Miss Bennett’s. But you,” she said, her voice icy and cutting, “you don’t deserve to be her husband.”
She let out a sharp breath, and then her anger poured out.
“How could you be her husband? When she was helpless, scared, and crying over her parents? Where were you when she was hurt, injured, and alone at the hospital? Every single time she came here in pain… she insisted on leaving early, saying she needed to make dinner for you. She kept repeating your name over and over, even when she was suffering. And you… you weren’t there! ”
Her voice grew sharper, each word like a whip against James’s heart. “She suffered so much, and all she ever said was, ‘I must get home to be with my husband,’ even when she could barely walk! And every time she came here, she was always alone, in pain. I even thought her husband was already dead!”
“Hey! Are you out of your mind?” William suddenly shouted at Naomi, stepping forward. “Watch what you’re saying!”
James raised his hand in front of William’s mouth, stopping him mid-word. His eyes never left Naomi’s face. His voice shook as he said, barely a whisper, “Please… continue.”
The nurse’s eyes blazed with anger as she looked at James. “I know you come from wealth. Your status, your power… it’s all far higher than Miss Bennett’s. But you,” she said, her voice cold and cutting, “you don’t deserve to be her husband.”
James’s body trembled, broken, his chest heaving. “I… I did so many things wrong,” he stammered, voice cracking. “I didn’t realize I loved her until she already left me.”
The nurse didn’t flinch. She stared at him without pity. “Even if it’s this late. I’m glad she left you. I hope she never goes back to you. You don’t deserve a chance to make up for your mistakes. Someone as heartless as you should live with regret for the rest of your life.”
Her words cut him deeper than any knife. She leaned closer, her voice calm but filled with the fury she had carried for years. “Didn’t you ask me what Miss Bennett wanted to say to her husband before leaving him?”
“Y-Yes,” James whispered, his body shaking violently. His hands clutched the desk as he leaned closer, desperation written in every trembling line of his face. “Please… tell me. Please…”
Naomi’s eyes, full of disgust and pain, met his. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “No,” she said finally. “I will never tell you. You do not deserve it.”
James’s knees gave out. His body crumpled as if the weight of the world had fallen upon him. William rushed forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Sinclair… are you all right? It’s going to be okay—”
James shoved him roughly aside, tears streaming down his face. “I want to be alone.”
He stumbled, barely keeping upright, and turned away, leaving the reception in chaos.
But he couldn’t even make it to the bed. His knees gave way, his hands bracing against the cold wall, tears streaming down his face. His body shook as sobs wracked him. Every word of Naomi’s accusation, every image of Mia alone and suffering, echoed in his mind, piercing him with unbearable guilt.
Hours passed in darkness. The room was silent except for his ragged breathing. Two hours later, William returned to find the hospital room empty. Panic gripped him. He checked the tracker—James was at a bar.
William rushed out of the hospital immediately.
At the bar, James sat hunched over the table, trembling.
He grabbed a bottle of whiskey, unscrewed it, and poured it into a glass until it overflowed.
He slammed the bottle down, picked up the glass, and drank straight, hard, letting it burn down his throat.
The burn of the alcohol barely touched the torment inside him.
The nurse’s words replayed in his mind like a merciless loop:
“Why didn’t you show up when she was hurt?”
“ I even thought her husband was already dead!”
The voice repeated again and again, merging with his guilt.
He pulled out his phone and stared at a photograph of Mia—young, radiant, beautiful, her eyes full of hope, standing next to him.
He was there too, hands behind his back, staring blankly at the camera, as if forced.
His chest tightened, the weight of regret pressing down harder with every memory, every moment he had wasted.