Before You Ruined My Life

My first day out of prison.

I received a call from my husband. Or rather, the eighteen-year-old version of him.

Mae, are we married now? Did I cry like a baby at our wedding?

The boy's voice was bright, bubbling with anticipation, answering his own question before I could even find my voice:

I love you so much, I bet I was a total mess.

"Oh, and our brilliant Maeyou must be a world-class surgeon by now, right? And me? Am I a captain yet? Flying those massive commercial jets?"

I looked down at my right hand, a landscape of jagged, angry red scars.

Then I looked through the glass window of the hospital room, watching the man he had actually become gently feeding another woman soup.

I smiled, though it felt like tearing open a fresh wound.

"You sent me to prison," I whispered into the receiver. "I cant even hold a scalpel anymore. And you? You became a lying, cheating coward. Someone who makes me sick."

Before he could reply, I hung up.

I remembered what he had told me when we were eighteen.

Mae, no matter what happens, you have to keep moving forward.

My phone rang and vibrated relentlessly, buzzing in my palm like a dying insect. I shut it off entirely.

Then, I knocked on the heavy wooden door of the private hospital room.

The moment Chase saw me, his body went rigid. His first instinct was to step forward, shielding the woman in the bed.

"Maeve," he said, his voice tight. "What are you doing here? Havent you done enough?"

Behind him, the woman shrank back into the pillows, her pale face a picture of fragile innocence.

Serena. His co-pilot. His constant shadow.

"Maeve... Im so sorry," Serena whimpered. "Its my fault. If I had just listened to you, you wouldnt have gone to jail. Im so, so sorry..."

Hearing her say the word jail sent a sharp, phantom ache shooting through my right wrist. Every scar beneath my sleeve throbbed, reminding me of the horror of the past seven days.

But it was over. Finally.

"Have you signed the papers?" I asked. My voice was steadier than I expected.

His expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He clearly hadn't expected me to come here looking for a divorce.

"Maeve, youre the one who crossed the line. Why are you making a scene"

"Have you signed them?" I cut him off.

Serena reached out, her fingers catching the hem of Chases sweater. "Chase, please dont fight with her because of me."

Irritation flashed in Chases eyes. "Maeve, Serena and I are not what you think."

"Im not signing those papers."

"Go home. Once Im done here, Ill come find you and well talk."

A dry, humorless laugh escaped my throat.

Not what I think.

Then what was it?

A week ago, Serena had been scheduled for emergency abdominal surgery. I was her attending surgeon.

I had given strict, explicit orders: no food, no liquids. NPO.

Yet during the procedure, the moment the anesthesia began to take effect, she aspirated. She had secretly drank milk the night before. She choked, suffocated, and coded on the table. We brought her back, but she ended up in the ICU.

When Chase found out she was in critical condition, he didnt ask for an explanation. He didn't care about medical records. He marched straight into my department, in front of all my colleagues, and slapped me across the face.

The rumors about him and Serena had been swirling since the day she joined the airline. I had ignored them. We had been together since we were eighteen. High school sweethearts. I was utterly convinced he would never betray me.

But reality was a cruel teacher.

The very next day, a photo of them kissing in the back of a taxi went viral online.

Chase had knelt before me, weeping, slapping his own face over and over, begging for forgiveness, swearing he was drunk. I believed him. I forgave him.

But that slap in the hospital corridor? That was different. That was a physical declaration of where his loyalty lay.

In that moment, years of repressed betrayal and humiliation erupted. I screamed at him like a wild animal. I stormed into Serena's room and yanked her oxygen line right out of the wall.

I wanted him to see what actual cruelty looked like.

It was a moment of pure, unadulterated rage. And the consequences were immediate.

Chase filed charges. Attempted murder. He used his connections to put his own wife in jail.

Those seven days in that concrete hell became the defining nightmare of my life.

And when I got out?

A termination letter from the hospital was waiting for me. My career was dead. My right wrist was ruined, the nerves severed. And worst of all...

A secret I never got to tell him.

The child I lost, beaten out of me on the cold prison floor.

My wrist flared with pain again. My face grew pale, and I looked at him with cold disgust.

"If its not what I think, then what is it, Chase? Tell me. Explain it to me."

Chase opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Serena let out a soft, delicate cough.

Instantly, Chase forgot about me. He spun around, leaning over her bed, his voice so tender it made my skin crawl.

"Where does it hurt? Should I call the nurse?"

His back was turned to me.

His shoulders were broad, his posture straight, draped in the light grey cashmere sweater I had handpicked for his birthday.

In that second, a memory of eighteen-year-old Chase washed over me. He was wearing his faded high school varsity jacket, standing on the rooftop of the science building, looking at me with fierce devotion: "Mae, I swear to God, I will never let anyone hurt you. Not even myself."

I had teased him: "And what if you do?"

His face had gone dead serious. "If I ever hurt you, Mae, you hit me. You scream at me. You get your revenge. And then you run. You run as far away from me as you can, and you never look back. But," he hesitated, leaning in to press a quick, breathless kiss to my cheek, his ears turning bright red, "Ill never give you a reason to run."

I had laughed, pushing him away. "If you ever do, Chase, Ill make sure you can never find me again."

A bitter ache bloomed in my chest. I snapped back to the sterile light of the hospital room.

There he was. Facing away from me, comforting another woman.

The corners of my mouth curled into a faint smile. I reached into my bag, pulled out a fresh, signed copy of the divorce agreement, and placed it on the bedside table.

"I printed another copy. Sign it and mail it to this address."

I placed a lawyer's business card on top of the documents.

"The division of assets is attached. If you have a problem with it, have your lawyer call mine."

Chases shoulders stiffened. He slowly turned around, his eyes dark and turbulent.

"Maeve," he said, his voice rough and low. "Are you seriously doing this? Were going to end a ten-year marriage over a petty misunderstanding?"

A petty misunderstanding.

Seven days in a jail cell. A shattered wrist. A dead baby.

And he called it a petty misunderstanding.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and forced a polite smile.

"In all the years weve been together, Chase, when have I ever joked about something like this?"

"Just sign it. Its better for you. For me," I glanced at Serena, who was watching us like a hawk, "and for her."

Chases expression hardened into ice. He grabbed the papers off the table and tore them into shreds.

"Get that out of your head," he spat, throwing the paper scraps onto the floor. "Im not divorcing you."

"Your mental state is completely shot right now. Go home. Well talk when youve calmed down."

Having delivered his ultimatum, he dismissed me entirely, turning back to Serena to adjust her blankets.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the shredded paper on the linoleum.

My eyes burned, but I didnt let the tears fall. "Fine. Ill see you in court."

I turned and walked out.

The damp autumn air hit me as I stepped out of the lobby. I pulled out my phone and powered it on.

Instantly, hundreds of missed calls and text messages flooded the screen. I scrolled through them numbly.

They were all from an unknown number, but the words belonged to a boy I used to know.

Mae, youre lying to me, right? Theres no way Id ever betray you. Id never put you in jail. I love you too much.

Mae, please answer me. Dont ignore me, Im begging you.

The tone shifted from frantic disbelief to absolute devastation.

Mae, do you remember what I told you?

If I ever hurt you, you have to get your revenge.

And then, keep running. Dont ever look back.

Mae, Im going to break up with eighteen-year-old you. I wont let anyone hurt younot even my future self. I promise.

A cold rain began to fall, blurring my vision. I couldn't tell if it was the rain or my own tears.

But the last message on the screen remained piercingly clear:

Mae. Keep running. Dont look back.

Three days before our scheduled court date, the process server delivered the papers to Chase.

That night, my phone rang. It was him.

"Maeve, Im not admitting to any affair," he said, his voice cold and defensive. "Nothing happened between Serena and me, except for that one accidental kiss when I was drunk."

"Besides, Serena has a boyfriend. Hes one of my closest friends. Do you really think Id sleep with my buddys girl?"

"Im not accepting these papers, and Im sure as hell not showing up in court. Stop this childish drama."

"Captain, were cleared for pre-flight check," a soft, familiar voice called out in the background.

Chases tone softened instantly as he answered her, before returning to his cold, dismissive drawl with me.

"Im going to be busy flying for the next few days. Ill come over and explain everything when I get back."

Before I could say a word, he hung up.

I stared at the black screen and typed out a single message:

Im not dropping the suit, Chase. I expect to see you there.

As expected, it went unanswered. Over the next three days, there was nothing but silence from his end.

Instead, I saw Serenas public social media updates.

The first post: A selfie of her and Chase in the cockpit, cruising at thirty thousand feet.

The caption read: Always feel so safe sleeping when my Captain is at the controls.

The second post: A grid of gourmet food photos.

The caption: Just landed in Seattle. Big thanks to my Captain for the late-night room service delivery!

The third post: A close-up of a hand with scraped, bruised knuckles. I recognized those hands instantlythey belonged to Chase.

Serenas caption: Some creep tried to hassle me at the terminal, and my Captain literally knocked three of his teeth out. My hero's hand is hurt now. So much love for him!

And there was more.

Chase, who despised shopping more than anything, had spent an entire day accompanying her through luxury boutiques in Seattle.

Chase, who never touched sweet drinks, had stood in a trendy boba line for three hours just to share a cup with her.

If this wasn't betrayal, what was?

I laughed aloud, the sound dissolving into quiet tears. I didn't sleep at all that night.

When morning came, I washed my face, tried to soothe my swollen eyes, and headed to the courthouse.

By ten o'clock, there was still no sign of Chase.

My lawyer, Mr. Kelly, sighed, tapping his pen against his briefcase. "Mrs. Callahan, do you want to postpone, or should we proceed?"

My ears buzzed with a dull, ringing sound. I barely heard him.

My eyes were locked onto a fresh notification on my phone. Serena had just posted again.

It was a photo of an ultrasound sheet. Six weeks pregnant.

The caption read:

An unexpected little miracle with my Captain. He says he loves babies and wants me to keep it a secret for now.

Below it, a small, gray text added: Only visible to Maeve.

My face went entirely bloodless. My fingers shook so violently I nearly dropped the phone.

Why?

Why did her baby get to grow safely inside her, while mine had been violently torn from me on a cold concrete floor?

I stood up so fast my chair scraped loudly against the floorboards, and I stormed out of the courthouse.

I drove straight to the hospital. By some cruel stroke of fate, I ran into Chase and Serena just as they were walking out of the lobby.

I didn't think. I lunged forward, putting every ounce of my strength into a slap that caught Chase squarely across the face.

"Chase! Why couldnt it have been you who died?" I screamed.

The force of the blow turned his head to the side, his cheek blooming into a sharp red welt. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, and he took a step toward me.

"Maeve, wait, let me explain. Its not what you think. Serena and I"

"I dont want to hear another word!" I shrieked, tears blinding me. "What lies are you going to tell me this time, Chase? Another accident? Do you even hear yourself? Arent you disgusted by your own voice? If youre man enough to do it, why cant you just admit it"

"Fine! I did it!" Chase roared, his patience snapping. "Its exactly what you think, Maeve! Serena and I have done everything. Weve held hands, weve kissed, weve slept together! More times than I can count!"

The world seemed to tilt. The breath was knocked clean out of my lungs.

Chase let out a cold, venomous laugh.

"Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now? I dont love you anymore, Maeve. I havent in a long time."

"Look at you. Youve aged. Youre miserable. Youre exhausting. Standing next to you makes me feel sick to my stomach. I dread coming home to look at you. The only thing keeping me with you was obligation, and you just blew that to pieces."

"Are you satisfied? Do you have any more questions?"

My lips parted, but my throat was too dry to produce a single syllable.

Chase stepped closer, his voice dripping with condescension.

"Seriously, Maeve. Youve been with me since you were eighteen. You married me at twenty-two. Youre twenty-eight now. Weve been together for ten years. Do you actually think you can survive without me? What are you going to do?"

"Go back to being a surgeon? Look at your hand. And after you ripped out Serenas oxygen line, what hospital in this country would ever hire a mentally unstable doctor like you?"

"Why couldnt you just look the other way? Why did you have to dig until you ruined everything for both of us?"

"Chase, please, dont talk to her like that," Serena sobbed, stepping forward with tear-filled eyes.

She looked at me, her expression a mask of performative guilt. "Maeve, Im so sorry. Please dont be angry at him. This is all my fault. Im the shameless one..."

"Serena, stay out of this," Chase snapped, though his hand instinctively went to her waist.

"No, it is my fault," Serena cried, reaching out to grab my arm. "Maeve, please, Iah!"

I instinctively shook her off. It wasn't a hard shove.

But Serena stumbled backward, losing her footing and striking her side hard against the edge of a concrete planter.

Within seconds, dark red blood began to seep through her light-colored trousers.

"Serena!" Chases face drained of color.

He whipped around, and before I could even register the movement, his hand collided violently with my cheek.

The force of the slap sent me stumbling back.

"Maeve! Youre a fucking lunatic!"

I felt something warm trickling down the corner of my mouth. I stood frozen, my mind completely blank.

Chase lunged forward, grabbing my right wrist in a vice grip, ready to scream at me again. But as his fingers dug into my flesh, he froze. Beneath his palm, he felt the thick, uneven ridges of scar tissue.

He let go, staring at my wrist, his voice suddenly faltering. "Your hand... what happened to your hand?"

Without a word, I reached into my bag, pulled out the crumpled divorce agreement, and threw it in his face.

"I hope I never see your face again as long as I live," I whispered.

Chases expression darkened, his jaw clenching. "You really want this?"

"Yes."

He stared at me for what felt like an eternity, his eyes burning with a mixture of rage and wounded pride.

"Fine!" he spat. "You want a divorce? You got it. Let's see how long you last on your own. Just don't you dare come crawling back to me."

As we parted ways, two ghosts from a decade agoeighteen-year-old Chase and eighteen-year-old Maevestood in the shadow of the corridor, watching the wreckage of their future.