Chapter 3 - The Unwelcome Visitor
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On the twenty-second morning, the heavy hospital door finally swung open. I gasped, my heart rate spiking on the digital monitor beside me as Caleb stepped into the room.
He was wearing a crisp, perfectly ironed suit. His hair was neatly styled, and he held a thick manila folder in his left hand. But there were no flowers. There was no look of relief washing over his face at the sight of his conscious wife. There were no tears of gratitude.
Instead, he walked into the room looking absolutely furious. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes darted around the medical equipment with blatant disgust. He looked more upset about the sterile environment and the blinking machines than the fact that I had nearly died on a highway.
"Caleb," I breathed, my voice hoarse from lack of use.
He didn't walk to my bedside. He didn't reach out to touch my hand. He stood rigidly at the foot of my bed, glaring down at me as if I had intentionally orchestrated the car accident just to ruin his busy schedule.
"Enough with this drama, Rebecca," he snapped, his voice sharp and utterly devoid of warmth.
He tossed the thick manila folder onto the foot of my bed. It slid across the thin blanket, revealing a stack of itemized hospital bills and insurance claims.
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"I've had enough of this," Caleb continued, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you have any idea how much this place is charging us per night? I’m not paying another dollar for this ridiculous vacation you're taking. Get out of that bed right now. We’re going home."
I stared at him, my mind struggling to process the absolute absurdity of his words. The heavy medication made my thoughts slow and muddy, but his cruel intention was perfectly clear.
