Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson)

Time seemed to stretch into eternity before the ER nurse emerged, calling out a name.

"Margaret Ferguson, is Margaret Ferguson's husband here?"

Bryant stepped forward with urgency, "Doctor! I'm here."

His words, so brief, felt like a dagger through my heart, bleeding me out, making it hard to breathe.

And there I was, after a day filled with anxious waiting and tough decisions, feeling like a complete fool.

It was as if I was standing there, dressed in a clown's outfit.

The divorce papers weren't even finalized.

And here was my husband, openly recognized as someone else's.

From a distance, I heard his anxious voice, "How is she? Is it serious?"

"Lost a lot of blood, what do you think? But luckily, you got her here in time. She's stable now."

The nurse, perhaps sensing his worry, added, "The baby's fine too."

Baby? Margaret was pregnant? They were having a child?

I forgot how to breathe for a moment, staring blankly at Bryant.

He finally relaxed, his face less strained as he said, "That's a relief."

Maybe it was my glaring stare, or perhaps he finally noticed me, but as he turned to look in my direction, I quickly retreated into the stairwell.

Leaning against the wall, the scene replayed in my mind.

I laughed uncontrollably, the kind of laugh that's on the verge of tears, tasting the bitterness in my tears.

How foolish of me.

"Jane, he's having a child with someone else."

"You probably thought, because of his grandfather's pressure, he had to move in, and you allowed yourself to hope again."

"You're so starved for love."

As these thoughts rushed through me, maybe I wanted to crush that hope once and for all. I reached for my phone to message him, but coincidentally, he called. His voice was calm, "Hey, Jane, are you home?"

"Yeah." I sniffled, trying to sound casual despite the urge to cry, "What's up?"

"Really?"

"Why would I lie?"

I tried to keep the conversation light, "Did you see someone who looks a lot like me or something?"

This time, I wanted clarity.

"No," he chose to hide the truth.

But I pressed on, "Where are you? Haven't sorted things out yet?"

"..."

He hesitated, only answering the latter, "Not yet, I can't make it home tonight, get some rest early."

"Is it work-related?" I asked with a laugh.

There was a brief silence on his end, then he replied steadily, "I'll be back once I'm done."

He was still hiding it.

I took a deep breath silently, "When will that be? Are you still coming to the concert tomorrow night?"

"I'll be there." This time, he didn't dodge the question, giving a definite answer.

I looked up at the ceiling, letting the tears fall, "Okay, I'll wait for you."

One last time.

When I left the hospital, the night had fully settled in.

After several showers, the chilly wind felt like it was cutting to the bone.

Wearing only a light knit dress, I felt numb, perhaps because something inside me was colder than the air outside.

"Ah-" Someone bumped into me head-on before quickly running into the hospital.

I gasped, stumbling backward, slipping on something, and bracing for a fall when someone caught me steadily.

For a split second, I wished it was Bryant.

But looking up, it was both a letdown and a surprise, "Mark, what are you doing here?"

It was Mark, whom I hadn't seen in a while.