From Neglected Wife to CEO’s Obsession novel Chapter 188

I’d never seen so much blood before. That blinding red was everywhere, making my legs wobble and my eyes sting with dryness.

Remy stepped back, hiding his injured hand behind him. Even through the pain he managed a soft, helpless smile, like he was trying to comfort me. "It's okay, Avery. Don't look. Be good, alright? Stop fussing. Stay away from me. You like things clean, don't touch my blood. Please, Avery, just step back. A little more, please."

Tears kept streaming down my face no matter how many times I wiped them away.

Looking at Remy like this, I felt like I was staring at the boy he used to be. My heart twisted painfully.

How did we end up here? Remy used to be so good to me—the kind of guy who would risk everything for me. How did he end up cheating? How did we get to this point, our relationship crumbling at the edge of nowhere?

The rescue team Elliot called showed up fast. The park staff came too, taking the crazy woman away.

The paramedics quickly stopped Remy's bleeding as best they could, then got him onto a stretcher and loaded him into the cable car.

Remy had come alone, and by now he was so pale and weak from blood loss he could barely keep his eyes open. I couldn’t leave him, so I followed as his emergency contact and went with him to the hospital.

As the cable car started moving, I saw Elliot standing off in the distance, staring at me. There was a massive bouquet of wildflowers—yellow, blue, purple, red—sticking out of his backpack. They looked beautiful, almost out of place.

At the bottom of the mountain, the ambulance was waiting. The siren wailed as we sped toward the nearest hospital.

Remy kept his eyes shut, his right palm face down, his left hand gripping his injured wrist so hard his knuckles turned white. His jaw was clenched so tight I could see the marks of his teeth in his cheek.

The box cutter must’ve been razor sharp. With how much blood he’d lost, I knew the cut was deep—serious.

I couldn’t imagine how much it hurt.

Sitting in the back of the ambulance, watching Remy’s face, there was this ache inside me I couldn’t even begin to describe.

At some point, Remy opened his eyes. He reached out with his uninjured hand and tried to hook my pinky with his.

I snapped out of my daze and instinctively pulled my hand away, not letting him touch me.

He saved me. I was grateful for that.

When Mom died, I waited the same way.

Now it was Remy inside, and I was still waiting.

This kind of waiting—where you don’t know what’s going to happen, how long it’ll take, or how it’ll end—was pure torture. It made me feel like I could break at any second.

I paced back and forth, telling myself Remy’s injury wasn’t life-threatening, that he’d be okay. But I couldn’t settle the fear and guilt tearing me up inside.

If I hadn’t been knocked over, maybe none of this would’ve happened.

That knife was meant for my heart. It could’ve killed me.

Now I owed Remy my life. How was I ever supposed to repay him for that?

The doors to the operating room swung open, and a young nurse poked her head out. “Are you Remy’s family? Please pick up his test results from the lab and ring the bell when you get back. I’ll come out and get them.”