The Weight of His Regret

My dad was bent double from severe chest pain. After waiting three grueling hours in the emergency department, we finally got his ECG results. The attending ER physician glanced at the sheet and simply told us to keep waiting for an available bed. Desperate, I called my boyfriend, Lucian Vance, the deputy chief of cardiothoracic surgery at the hospital. "Lucian, my dad's having awful chest pains. Could you please take a quick look at his results?" His voice through the receiver was icy and detached. "The ER has its own triage protocol, Avery. Stop trying to pull strings and cut the line every time something happens." "Chest tightness and discomfort are extremely common in men his age. The doctors told you to wait, so wait." "This hospital isn't my personal clinic, and I'm not an on-call private concierge for your family." Click. He hung up. I stood frozen in the chaotic ER lobby, surrounded by the harsh sounds of coughing and sobbing families. When my dad saw me turn around, he immediately forced a frail, reassuring smile. "I'm fine, sweetie. See? It doesn't even hurt anymore." A burning ache welled behind my eyes. While we sat there waiting, my thumb mindlessly scrolled through Ins, and a new post from Chloe Brooks popped up. In the photo, Lucian stood outside a private VIP suite in his crisp white lab coat. Chloe’s mother was propped comfortably against the luxury pillows, wearing a VIP patient wristband, with a lavish bouquet of fresh white roses resting on the nightstand. Her caption read: “Mom’s blood pressure spiked in the middle of the night, but thankfully Lucian arranged a private room immediately.” “Having someone who always catches you when you fall… there’s truly no safer feeling in the world.” Timestamp: Ten minutes ago. Right when Lucian told me he was too busy following protocol. In that singular moment, it felt like our five-year relationship had been violently ripped wide open. There was no love inside. There was only the humiliating reality of my own endless self-deception. By 4:00 AM, the doctors finally took my dad back for a follow-up assessment. The physician told us that while there were no signs of an acute myocardial infarction right now, his coronary condition looked concerning, and he needed to be admitted for comprehensive monitoring as soon as possible. However, the inpatient wards were completely full. They told us he had to stay in the holding observation area. There weren't even stretchers available in observation. My dad was forced to lean against a cold metal chair in the hallway, his eyes tightly shut as he endured the pain in silence. Curled in his seat, he whispered softly, "This is great, Avery. At least I have a chair back to lean on now." The more accommodating he tried to be, the worse my chest ached. At daybreak, I went downstairs to grab some warm oatmeal for him. Just as I reached the elevator bank near the cardiothoracic wing, the doors slid open. Lucian and Chloe walked out side by side. Chloe wore an elegant pastel knit sweater, her eyes soft and rimmed with red, looking like a delicate victim. Lucian held a thick stack of medical charts, leaning down patiently to murmur instructions to her. "Your mom is stable. I'll have the department chief review her scans again this morning just to be completely safe." Chloe sniffled delicately. "Lucian, isn't this putting you through too much trouble?" "Never," Lucian answered, his tone gentler than I had heard in months. "Don't overthink it. Just focus on taking care of her." I stood rooted to the floor. The hot paper cup in my hands burned into my palms. When Lucian finally noticed me, his posture stiffened instantly. Chloe followed his gaze. The lingering vulnerability in her eyes quickly melted into a faint, unmistakable flicker of triumph. "Oh, Avery! Are you here at the hospital too?" I didn't even glance at her. My eyes were fixed solely on Lucian. "I thought you said the ER has protocols? I thought you said we aren't allowed to pull strings?" Lucian frowned, his voice dropping into a stern whisper. "This is a hospital, Avery. Don't make a scene." "My dad spent the entire night sitting on a hard chair in the ER hallway," I said, my voice trembling with raw fury. "Why did Chloe's mother get admitted straight into a VIP suite?" Lucian’s expression darkened. "Mrs. Brooks had a sudden hypertensive crisis. Her case was exceptional." I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "And my dad clutching his chest in agony wasn't exceptional?" Chloe’s expression shifted into one of wounded innocence. "Avery, you’re misunderstanding everything. My mom was genuinely feeling sick, and Lucian was just lending a helping hand." I shot her a lethal glare. "Did I ask you? Are you that desperate to be put in your place?" Chloe froze in shock. Lucian’s scowl deepened, his tone snapping sharply. "Avery, what is wrong with you! Chloe didn't do anything wrong!" "Besides, your father’s acute symptoms were already ruled out, weren't they? Can you stop being so petty and dramatic over every little thing?" Petty. My dad had spent the entire night suffering in a drafty corridor, and in Lucian's eyes, I was just being petty. I looked at him, and suddenly, every word I had wanted to say evaporated. I turned around with the oatmeal and walked away without looking back. Back in my dad's hallway corner, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A message from Lucian: 【I'm heading back to our place for dinner after my shift. Make something light.】 【The department has been chaotic the past couple of days, and my stomach ulcer is acting up again.】 In the past, whenever he mentioned a stomach ache, I would immediately run to the market, buy pumpkin and whole grains, and simmer broth for hours until it was silky smooth. Whenever he stumbled home from a brutal night shift, there would always be warm soup waiting on the stove. I knew which drawer his ulcer medications were in better than he did. Now, my fingers moved across the glass with icy precision. 【If your stomach hurts, go book an appointment with a gastroenterologist.】After sending it, I walked straight back to my dad's side. Seeing me return, he hurriedly tried to sit up straight. "What took you so long, sweetheart?" I handed him the warm cup. "Dad, as soon as the sun is fully up, I'm transferring you to another hospital." My dad paused, his face falling into worry. "Don't cause a fuss, Avery. Lucian works here. If people see you moving me, it'll make things awkward for him." A sharp lump formed in my throat. Even now, sitting in agony on a metal chair, his only concern was protecting my relationship. I reached out and took his hand. It was calloused, weathered, and lined with decades of hard physical labor. I shook my head gently. "It doesn't matter, Dad. We don't need to care about him." The smile on my dad’s face faltered. He opened his mouth, but only a quiet sigh escaped. "Avery... did I cause trouble for you?" Something deep inside me shattered completely. Hot tears threatened to spill over my lashes. My dad had never owed a single person anything in his entire life. He had raised me on his own, working as a carpenter in our small hometown to put me through college in New York. He turned rough timber into beams and traded sleepless nights for my tuition fees. Yet in front of Lucian Vance, he was reducing himself to asking timidly if he was a burden. I wiped the corner of my eyes with the back of my hand. "No, Dad." "I'm the one who let you be treated like this." That afternoon, with the help of a colleague, I finally secured an inpatient bed at another hospital across town. They had regular ward availability and could schedule his cardiac catheterization and imaging immediately. While I was processing my dad’s transfer paperwork, Lucian’s name flashed across my phone screen. I answered. "Avery, do you seriously have to make things this ugly?" he demanded coldly. I countered, "Transferring my father to a facility that actually has a bed for him is ugly?" Lucian lowered his voice, frustrated. "Transferring him out of my hospital—what do you think my colleagues are going to say?" I let out a cold smirk. "They'll say Dr. Vance is a paragon of integrity. A man who follows the rules so strictly he wouldn't even lift a finger for his girlfriend’s dying father." "Isn't that the saintly reputation you always wanted?" My dad, sitting in his wheelchair nearby, panicked and tried to struggle to his feet. "Avery, please, don't say that. Lucian is just busy with work..." The more my dad made excuses for him, the more my heart bled. My dad had spent his whole life taking the high road. He endured poverty, endured hardships, and endured being looked down upon by others. Now that I was an adult, I was supposed to protect him. Why should he have to swallow his pride in front of my own boyfriend? Looking at my dad, I said firmly, "Dad, stop defending him." "From now on, we won't ever bother him again." With that, I hung up the phone. After the transfer, my dad was settled into a clean, comfortable room. I took time off from work to stay by his bedside around the clock. Lucian sent a few more SnapChat messages: 【I'm coming over for dinner tonight.】 【If your dad needs imaging reviewed, you can send me the files. I'll look at them when I have a free minute.】 I didn't reply with a single word. Late the next afternoon, Lucian finally showed up. He wore his tailored charcoal overcoat, carrying the chill of the outside air, but his hands were completely empty. Not even a cheap grocery-store bouquet of flowers. Yet when my dad saw him walk through the door, his tired eyes lit up with relief. "Lucian! You made it." Lucian gave a polite nod and walked in, keeping his tone measured. "How are you feeling, Mr. Hayes?" "Much better, so much better," my dad lied with a broad smile, visibly relieved. "You're so busy saving lives, you really didn't need to go out of your way to visit an old man." Lucian pulled up a chair and sat down. "It's what I should do." The moment the words left his mouth, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced down. Standing right beside him, I clearly saw Chloe’s name lighting up the screen. 【Avery seems really mad at me lately...】 Lucian typed back smoothly: 【Ignore her. She's emotionally volatile right now because of her dad's situation.】Staring at those words on his screen, the antiseptic smell of the hospital room suddenly turned nauseatingly sharp. My dad, completely unaware, kept trying to make polite conversation. "Lucian, Avery told me you've been doing back-to-back surgeries lately?" Lucian didn't even lift his eyes from his phone. "Yeah." "Being a surgeon must be exhausting," my dad continued, his posture slightly tense and timid. "Back when I did heavy carpentry, I pulled all-nighters too, but that was just rough labor. Nothing compared to people like you who save human lives." Lucian offered an absentminded hum. His phone buzzed again. Chloe texted: 【Mom is feeling so much better today. She said she wants to thank you in person. She even said... she wishes you were her son-in-law.】 The corner of Lucian’s mouth tilted up into a faint, involuntary smile. Watching him, a wave of profound disgust washed over me. My dad saw none of it, still trying desperately to smooth things over on my behalf. "Avery can have a bit of a temper sometimes. Please don't hold it against her." "Her mother passed away when she was little, and I was always away working jobs. There were so many things nobody ever taught her." "Deep down, she has the softest heart. Please be patient with her, Lucian." Lucian locked his screen, placed the phone face down in his palm, and finally looked up at me. "Don't worry, Mr. Hayes." "I know she's under a lot of stress lately." He paused, then added pointedly, "She just tends to get stubbornly fixated on the wrong things." My dad’s smile faltered. He looked at me with immediate anxiety, terrified that I might explode right then and there. I said nothing. Lucian stood up, smoothing his coat. "Alright, I have rounds back at my department. I should get going." I glanced at the clock on the wall. He had been in the room for barely three minutes. My dad scrambled in panic. "So soon?" "A lot of administrative work waiting," Lucian replied smoothly. My dad suddenly remembered something and reached urgently under the nightstand for a canvas tote bag. "Wait, Lucian, take this—" Inside were vacuum-sealed cured meats my dad had personally prepared back home. Before boarding the train to New York, he had painstakingly wrapped each one by hand. But by the time my dad lifted his head, Lucian had already walked out into the corridor. Holding the heavy tote bag against his chest, my dad sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed. He looked up at me, his voice small and hesitant. "Avery... did your old man say something wrong?" A bitter sorrow flooded my throat. I forced a gentle smile to comfort him. "No, Dad. You didn't do anything wrong." Yet I caught the sheen of wetness gathering in the corners of his eyes. I'm done. I don't want this boyfriend anymore. Later that afternoon, I sent Lucian a single message: 【We need to meet. I have something to say to you.】 Lucian didn't reply. An hour later, my phone rang. It was the vice principal from my younger brother’s high school. "Is this Avery Hayes? Your brother, Leo Hayes, got into a physical fight on campus today. Can you come down to the administration office immediately?" My head buzzed with a sharp ringing sound. Leo was a senior in high school, an exceptional student who had earned a transfer spot to an elite preparatory academy in New York through a regional academic assistance program. He was quiet, introverted, and rarely spoke up. In all his seventeen years, he had never even raised his voice in an argument. I couldn't fathom how he could possibly end up in a brawl. When I rushed into the high school office, the first person I saw was Lucian. He was standing right next to Chloe, leaning down to comfort her in a low, soothing tone. Chloe’s eyes were rimmed with tears, and sitting beside her was a teenage boy in the school uniform. It was Chloe’s younger brother, Julian Brooks. Julian had a faint split on his lip and a light scrape on his forearm, slouching in his chair with an expression of immense, dramatic grievance. Meanwhile, my brother Leo stood tucked away in the far corner of the office. The collar of his uniform was ripped, and a deep purple bruise was already blossoming near his temple. His eyes were bloodshot, and his fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white. The vice principal sighed heavily upon seeing me. "You're Leo's sister? The two boys broke out into a fight in the main hallway. It caused a massive disruption." Before I could even open my mouth, Lucian turned his head toward me. His brow was furrowed in sheer disapproval. "Avery, what is going on with your brother?" "He attacked Julian out of nowhere and bruised him up. Chloe has been frantic with worry."I locked eyes with Lucian. "Have you even bothered to investigate what actually happened?" Lucian’s face hardened. "Julian comes from an educated, respectable family. He wouldn't pick a fight without a reason." "On the other hand, Leo just moved here from a rural town. Adjusting to a competitive city school is tough, and it's completely understandable if he's feeling insecure and lashes out with an attitude." Leo jerked his head up, stunned, as silent tears spilled down his bruised cheeks. It felt like someone had driven a dull blade straight into my heart. "Lucian! What right do you have to talk about my brother like that?" Lucian frowned, crossing his arms. "I'm just looking at the facts objectively." "A kid from the countryside suddenly thrown into a top-tier prep school deals with massive psychological pressure. They become overly sensitive and impulsive." "As his older sister, you shouldn't blindly defend his bad behavior." Chloe chimed in with a soft, trembling voice. "Avery, Lucian is only saying this for Leo’s own good..." I didn't spare her a single glance. I kept my eyes locked on Lucian. "You haven't asked Leo a single question, yet you've already decided he has an attitude problem and likes violence. You call that 'objective'?" Lucian faltered for a second, then gestured toward Julian. "The fact is that Julian is clearly more visibly hurt." "Julian took the brunt of the beating and hasn't said a single cruel word. Doesn't Leo owe him an apology?" Before I could snap back, Julian clutched his forehead and groaned theatrically. "Ow... my head hurts so bad. Everything's spinning." Chloe immediately burst into fresh tears. "Lucian, what should we do?" Lucian nodded urgently. "I drove here. I'll take you two to the hospital to get a full medical evaluation for his injuries." I watched in silence as Lucian took Chloe’s arm and led her toward the door. Strangely, seeing them walk away didn't make me angry anymore. A dead, suffocating calm settled over my chest. I turned toward Leo and softened my voice. "Tell me, Leo. Why did you fight?" A long silence stretched between us before he choked out in a cracked, trembling voice: "I didn't want to fight..." "Today during break, I saw Julian holding a wooden carved pendant." "It was the one Dad hand-carved. I recognized the grain immediately." "Dad's hands were covered in blisters when he made that, Avery." "He told me it was a gift for his future son-in-law, to keep Lucian safe during his long surgeries." A heavy tear dropped onto Leo’s torn uniform collar. "Julian was banging it against the desks, showing it off to everyone, laughing that it was cheap garbage that Lucian didn't even want." "I told him to give it back to me. He refused." "He sneered and said Lucian gave it to him as a toy, but even as a toy, it was too tacky to keep." A loud roar filled my ears. Leo sniffled, his voice breaking into quiet sobs. "Then... then he threw it on the floor. It cracked." "I bent down to pick up the pieces, and he stepped right on it with his sneaker. That's when I shoved him." "He called Dad a worthless redneck carpenter. He said our whole family was rural trash who treated garbage like treasure." His trembling words cut through my heart like a serrated knife. I pulled Leo gently into my arms, my voice steady and resolute. "Don't cry. Your sister is going to handle this." I demanded to view the hallway surveillance footage with the administration and had them transfer a copy directly to my phone. After walking Leo back to his dorms and making sure he was safe, I drove straight back to the two-bedroom apartment Lucian and I shared. Three years ago, when Lucian was promoted to an attending surgeon, his schedule exploded with emergency night shifts and long operations. His old bachelor pad was too far from the hospital. One night, at two in the morning, he had slumped on my tiny couch, eyes closed in sheer exhaustion. He had whispered, “Avery, if there was just a light waiting for me when I got home, maybe all of this wouldn’t feel so overwhelming.” My heart had ached for him. So, I terminated the lease on my own affordable studio and stretched my savings to rent this two-bedroom place right across from his hospital. I turned the spare bedroom into a private study for his research, bought him an ergonomic lumbar chair, and kept his ulcer medication stocked. Whenever he walked out of the operating room at dawn, there was always a warm porch light on, and a glass of warm water beside the bed. I used to believe that this was what building a life together meant. Only now did I realize it was nothing more than an elaborate illusion I had constructed all by myself. I began packing. I moved with a ruthless speed that surprised even me. When you truly decide to walk away from someone, there is no screaming, no crying, no theatrical door-slamming. There is only the cold, sterile efficiency of cutting out a dead infection. Once everything of mine was packed, I called the landlord to break the lease early, paying the penalty without hesitation, and scheduled a moving van. When the movers arrived and saw the mountain of taped cardboard boxes stacked in the living room, the driver looked bewildered. "Where are we delivering these, miss?" "St. Jude’s Hospital, Cardiothoracic Surgery Department, Office 402." The driver scratched his head. "To a hospital? You're moving your apartment into a hospital?" "Yes." "Whose stuff is all this?" "My ex-boyfriend's." At 7:00 PM, I handed the keys over to the landlord. The apartment was hollow and empty. The warm entryway lamp I had kept burning for Lucian every night for three years was clicked off by my own hand. I cast one final glance into the dark hallway. There was no nostalgia. Only an overwhelming wave of relief. I pulled out my phone and sent Lucian one final SnapChat: 【All your belongings have been delivered to your hospital office.】 【I terminated the lease on the apartment.】 【Lucian, we're over.】 The moment the message delivered, I blocked his number, deleted his contact, and wiped him from my life.