Chapter 15
Callum
The drive home was a blur.
I couldn’t remember the last traffic light I’d passed, or whether I’d actually signaled before switching lanes. My mind wasn’t in my body, it was still in that phone call with the police, replaying the words like a punch I couldn’t dodge.
No record. No report. No detective.
Nothing.
Ashley had lied, meticulously, and deliberately. And I had let her. I had carried her fear like it was gospel while ignoring the growing cracks in Ginny’s eyes every time I pulled away.
I gripped the wheel until my knuckles went white. I was already planning what I would say to Ginny. How I’d explain everything. How I’d apologize for every second I’d made her feel pushed aside. How I’d -
My phone rang.
My heart jumped into my throat.
Ginny.
After pulling over, I fumbled for the screen, then froze.
My mother’s name was on the display.
Disappointment shot through me. I answered immediately.
“Callum,” she said, her voice sharp, breathless. “Where are you?”
“Driving home,” I said. “Why? What’s—”
“Why are you not at the hospital?”
Hospital.
The word hit like a blow.
“What?” My voice broke. “What hospital? What happened?”
“Ginny collapsed,” she said, and that alone nearly made me swerve off the road. “Thalia brought her in. Chest pain. Dizziness. They admitted her immediately.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“She collapsed?”
“Yes!” she snapped. “She’s been there for over an hour. Where the hell are you?”
“I- I’m on the north side,” I stammered. “I didn’t know. No one called me. She didn’t—”
My father’s voice erupted in the background: “She did call you! And you didn’t answer!”
I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing a sickening wave of dread. “I swear, I didn’t notice my phone ring. I—”
“You get here right now,” my mother said, voice breaking around the edges. “You should already be here.”
“I’m coming,” I said immediately, already slamming my foot down on the accelerator. “I’m coming now.”
They hung up without another word.
I didn’t even remember the drive.
I just remembered the panic.
And the guilt.
Because while Ginny was collapsing, barely able to breathe, I was sitting in a parking lot unraveling over another woman’s lies. While she was scared and alone, I was tearing apart a mess I had let into our lives.
I ran two red lights. I weaved between cars. Someone honked long and furious behind me, but I didn’t care, I would have driven on the sidewalk if I had to.
When the hospital finally came into view, my pulse was pounding so hard I could barely think. I parked crookedly across two spaces, threw the door open, and sprinted inside.
“Ginny Wilson,” I gasped at the front desk. “My wife, she was brought in - she collapsed, where is she?”
The nurse didn’t even ask me to calm down. “Room 14B.”
I ran.
Down the hall. Around a corner. Past a cluster of nurses who all turned at the sound of my footsteps pounding the tile.
I reached the room and stopped short, chest heaving.
Ginny was in the hospital bed, propped slightly upright, eyes half-lidded. Pale. Too pale. Wires trailed from her chest to a monitor, and an IV line dangled from her arm. She looked small, fragile in a way I had never seen.
Thalia sat beside her, posture stiff, jaw tight, fury radiating off her like heat.
When she saw me, she stood so sharply her chair scraped the floor.
“Oh,” she said, voice like ice. “You finally decided to show up.”
My throat tightened. “Thalia, I—”
“Don’t,” she snapped, stepping slightly in front of Ginny as if I were a threat. “You weren’t there when she nearly passed out at her front door. You weren’t there when she couldn’t breathe. You weren’t there when she collapsed in the triage bay. You weren’t there for any of it.”
Each sentence was a blade.
I deserved every one.
Ginny’s eyes lifted weakly to mine.
That look -
God.
It was the look of someone who didn’t know whether they could trust me anymore. And it carved something out of me from the inside.
“Gin,” I whispered, moving closer, voice shaking, “I’m here. I’m here now.”
She didn’t answer immediately. Her fingers twisted in the blanket, nervous, hesitant.
“I tried calling you,” she said finally, barely above a whisper.
It felt like someone kicked the air out of my lungs.
“I didn’t see it.” The words came out rushed, desperate. “I swear, Ginny, I didn’t see it. If I had, if I’d known you were—”
She closed her eyes, and I stopped talking.
Because I realized something.
Excuses sounded like lies, even when they weren’t.
Thalia crossed her arms behind me. “She shouldn’t have had to call you twice.”
I ignored her.
My entire focus was Ginny.
“Are you okay?” I asked, though I could see clearly she wasn’t.
“I will be,” she murmured.
Her voice was thin, worn. It made my chest ache.
Before I could say anything else, two doctors walked in, one with a clipboard, the other with a tablet.
“Mrs. Wilson,” the older one said, “We have some good news. This PSVT has boosted you up the waitlist for the catheter ablation. We will be able to complete the procedure this evening, and anticipate being able to release you from the hospital in the morning.”
I stepped closer instinctively.
“There are some risks with this procedure, including blood clots, a small risk of stroke, and the possibility of bleeding. Afterwards, you will need to be consistent with the medications that we prescribe. It is important for you to minimize stress during the recovery process,” he said firmly.
“None. Your vitals indicate a severe autonomic flare, likely triggered by emotional strain. You need rest, hydration, and constant supervision for the next few days.”
“I can take care of her,” I said instantly. “She’ll come home and—”
Thalia let out a sharp, bitter laugh.
The doctor continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “She cannot be alone. And she cannot engage in anything that raises her heart rate or blood pressure.”
I nodded rapidly, already planning how to hover, how to watch her breathe if I had to.
“We’ll have the papers ready for you to sign shortly,” the doctor said, then left.
The door clicked shut.
Silence closed in.
Ginny stared down at her hands.
I stepped nearer, feeling useless, desperate. “Gin… I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here. I should’ve—”
She swallowed hard, voice barely audible. “I miss the old Callum.”
It was the softest sentence she’d ever spoken.
And it hurt more than anything Ashley had done.
“Ginny,” I whispered, “I’m still here.”
She looked at me then.
Really looked.
And for the first time since I’d arrived, I understood something with cold, absolute clarity:
She didn’t believe that anymore.
Her voice trembled. “No, you’re not. Your body may be here, but mentally, you are miles away, saving someone else while I fall apart.”
A crack went through me. Clean. Deep.
I moved closer, almost reaching for her hand, but Thalia stepped between us like a shield.
“She doesn’t need stress,” she said. “And you? You are the human embodiment of stress.”
“Thalia,” Ginny whispered in a fragile plea.
Thalia didn’t move.
I forced myself to back away, swallowing the shame burning hot behind my ribs.
“Gin,” I said quietly, “please let me fix this. Please.”
She didn’t look at me again.
She didn’t speak.
And the silence between us felt like it was already beginning to break something in half.
Ginny stared at her hands. Thalia stood guard like a barrier made of steel and rage.
I stood there, feeling like everything in my chest had collapsed inward.
The machines kept beeping steadily, almost mockingly.
They didn’t know her body had just given out under the weight of something I’d helped create.
Before I could speak again, before I could beg again, the door swung open.
My mother.
Her face was streaked with tears, fury blazing through every inch of her.
Behind her, my father followed, jaw clenched so tightly the muscle ticked in the side of his cheek.
My mother took one look at Ginny, hooked up to monitors, pale, trembling, and then turned on Thalia.
“Let us all chat in the hall. There is no reason to disturb Ginny. Ginny, sweetheart, why don’t you try and get some rest?” My mother said, her voice strained.
Ginny managed a weak smile, and we all followed my mom out into the hall.
“Thalia - you called us,” she said, breath shaking. “You said—”
Thalia didn’t let her finish.
She stepped forward, expression dark and shaking with a fury I’d never seen in her before.
“Yes,” she snapped. “I called you. Because your son fucked up.”
The words hit the room like a detonation.
“What does that mean?” my father demanded.
Thalia didn’t blink.
“It means,” she said, voice cracking on the edges, “that Ginny collapsed in her own home. It means she was unwell and dizzy for hours. It means she couldn’t stand. It means she was clutching her chest and whispering his name like a prayer, and he didn’t answer. And do you want to know why?”
My father’s voice was low, dangerous. “Yes. I would like to know exactly why.”
Thalia pointed at me like she was identifying a criminal.
“Because he’s been hiding things from her.
Because he’s been dealing with some deranged woman from his past behind Ginny’s back.
Because he ignored his phone while his wife was literally collapsing, but he somehow always seemed to respond instantly to that crazy bitch. ”
My mom turned to me so fast her purse strap slipped off her shoulder.
“Is that true?” she whispered. “Tell me right now.”
My mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
How could I explain that I had prioritized someone over my wife?
That I was so focused on “saving” someone else that I stopped paying attention to the things that should have come first?
That I was so completely out of my mind that I hadn't even noticed that my phone was vibrating from her call, and that I had to turn the ringer off o=n my phone just to preserve my sanity?
That I had been unraveling the truth at the exact moment Ginny needed me the most? That I had been blind, stupid, selfish—
My silence was answer enough.