I Erased Myself to Escape You

In the third year since I woke in the hospital bed, I was finally able to sit on the edge of the bed like an ordinary person. The small bedside lamp cast a warm yellow glow, illuminating my son as he held a fairy tale book in his arms. His name is Arthur Carr. He is five years old, with eyelashes that droop like little fans. I turned to the last page of "The Little Mermaid" and softly asked him if he wanted me to read it again. But Arthur suddenly lifted his head, his eyes filled with a seriousness I couldn't comprehend. He said, "Mom, I want my aunt to be my mom instead." My fingers froze on the page as a cold shiver ran through my fingertips. Arthur's aunt is my sister, Karina Scott. Over the past three years, she has frequently shown up at our house under the pretense of caring for us. Suppressing the strange feeling in my heart, I gently ruffled his hair: "Why? Isn't Mommy good enough?" Arthur lowered his head, fiddling with the hem of his clothes: "My aunt will buy me Transformers and even take me to the amusement park." I didn't ask further; I simply closed the fairy tale book and laid him down to sleep. Once his breathing evened out, I quietly tiptoed out of the bedroom. The living room lights were off; only the study emitted a faint glow. Yves Carr's study never allowed others to enter freely; even I seldom went in before. But tonight, that door was ajar, and low voices drifted from within. I approached, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. Through the crack in the door, I saw the wall covered with photographs. They were all photos of Karina Scott—her laughing in the garden, holding Arthur Carr, and solo artistic portraits of her. Yves Carr stood with his back to the door, holding a solo photo of Karina Scott, his fingertips gently brushing it. "Karina, I know this is wrong," his voice filled with guilt yet tinged with hope, "but during those three years Yolanda was in a coma, I truly fell in love with you." My feet felt nailed to the ground, and my blood seemed to freeze instantly. "I cannot divorce; Mrs. Carr's place belongs only to Yolanda," he paused, voice firm, "but I will compensate her with the finest material wealth. From now on, my love is for you alone." I could no longer listen, turned away, and fled back to the bedroom, burying myself under the covers, silently weeping. It turned out that the three years of companionship were nothing but a carefully plotted deception. From that day forward, Yves Carr began coming home late more and more often, sometimes returning at dawn, carrying the scent of a stranger's perfume. I asked him where he had gone, but he just said there was something at the company, avoiding my gaze. By the fifth day, he hadn't come home at all. Arthur asked me where Dad had gone, and I could only lie to him, saying Dad had gone on a business trip. In the afternoon, I received a call from the hospital saying that the previously scheduled heart surgery could now be arranged. I packed my things alone and took a taxi to the hospital. While handling the admission procedures, I heard a familiar voice from the corridor. I looked up and saw Yves carefully supporting Karina Scott. Karina's belly was slightly swollen, and a happy smile graced her face. "Take it slow, don't overexert yourself," Yves Carr's voice was so tender it seemed to drip with warmth. "The doctor said you need to rest properly right now." My heart felt as though it had been mercilessly gripped, aching so fiercely I could barely breathe. They saw me too, and Yves' face instantly darkened. Karina Scott linked her arm with his, looking at me with a provocative stare. "Yolanda, you're at the hospital too?" Karina smiled, her voice filled with pride, "Yves and I came for a prenatal checkup. I'm pregnant." I said nothing, only watching Yves. He avoided my gaze and whispered, "Yolanda, let's get a divorce. I want to marry Karina." Those words were like a knife, piercing straight into my heart. "Why?" My voice trembled. "Didn't you say that the position of Mrs. Carr could only be mine?" "That was before," he lifted his head, his eyes cold. "Now I only want to be responsible for Karina and the child." A nurse came over, urging me to prepare for surgery. I followed her in a daze. Before entering the operating room, I saw Yves Carr speaking with my attending Doctor, though I couldn't make out what they were saying. The doctor looked at me hesitantly, then nodded. Halfway through the surgery, an unexpected complication arose. My heart suddenly stopped, necessitating an emergency blood transfusion. But the nurse said there wasn't enough blood in the bank at the moment; they would have to wait for a new supply. In my hazy state, I heard the doctor say, "Prepare for Miss Karina first. Mr. Carr said to prioritize her safety." It turned out he had just instructed the doctor to assign resources to Karina Scott. I felt my body growing colder, my consciousness slipping away. When I came to again, I heard the nurse say, "It's serious—the patient is hemorrhaging heavily!" I tried to open my eyes, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't. Eventually, I sank completely into darkness.