The Call That Changed Everything
Celeste stared at the picture Adrian sent her—the one with his signature finally scrawled at the bottom of their divorce papers. It was done. Finally done.
She didn't know how to feel.
Should she feel relieved? Liberated?
Then why did it feel like her chest was collapsing?
She called him anyway.
"Hey," Adrian answered on the second ring. His voice was quiet, almost soft.
"Did you really submit it?"
"Yeah," he said after a pause. "Just walked out of the bureau."
"I'll call the representative to confirm," she said, her voice guarded.
"I figured you would," he chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "You don't trust me anymore. I get it."
She was about to hung up the call but she never got the chance.
Because that's when she heard it.
A loud honk.
The screech of tires.
A sickening thud.
And then—dead silence.
"Adrian?" Celeste's breath hitched. "Adrian!"
No response.
Her stomach turned ice cold. "Adrian, say something!"
Still nothing.
Her heart was racing now, thundering in her ears.
Then—finally—a voice. But not his.
"Hello?"
Celeste's pulse froze. "Who is this?"
"I—I just found this phone on the ground," the stranger stammered. "The owner... he was just hit by a car."
Celeste's world stopped.
"What?!"
"He's bleeding. Unconscious. We already called an ambulance, but—"
She didn't hear the rest. Her mind couldn't process anything beyond those words.
Hit by a car.
Bleeding.
Unconscious.
Her hands trembled violently as she dropped the call and grabbed her keys, bolting out the door. She didn't care that she was still in her sleepwear. She didn't care how she looked.
She just ran.
—
The hospital was too white. Too quiet. Too cold.
Celeste burst through the front doors, breathless and panicked, scanning the room like a woman possessed.
"Adrian Sinclair," she gasped out at the reception desk. "Where is he?"
The nurse blinked in surprise. "And you are—?"
"His wife!" she snapped. "Where is he?!"
The nurse's expression softened slightly at the word. "He's in the emergency room right now. The doctors are attending to him. You can't go in just yet."
Celeste staggered back, her legs wobbling beneath her. Her hand flew to her mouth, trying to stifle the sob threatening to burst out.
This wasn't happening.
It couldn't be.
Not Adrian.
Not now. Not when they finally—
She collapsed onto the nearby bench, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. She fumbled with her phone, barely able to swipe as she called the first number she could think of.
Eleanor answered almost immediately.
"Celeste?"
"Mom, it's Adrian..." Her voice cracked. "He—he got into an accident."
There was a sharp inhale on the other end. "We're on our way."
The line went dead.
She sat there, rocking back and forth slightly, arms wrapped tightly around herself like that would somehow hold her together.
Everything inside her was breaking.
She hated him.
She hated him for making her feel again. For making her believe, even for a second, that things could have been different.
But she hated herself more.
Because even after everything—after the lies, the confusion, the heartbreak—she still cared.
More than she ever wanted to admit.
And now she might never get the chance to tell him.
Her vision blurred with tears. Her nails dug into her palms.
"Please," she whispered to no one in particular. "Please be okay. Don't leave me, Adrian."
She stared at the emergency room doors like they held her entire world behind them.
And maybe they did.