Lost Me Gained Regret

Bryant stood in the kitchen, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft halo around him that softened his usually cold demeanor.

He lowered his gaze, his defined and dexterous hands skillfully prepping the ingredients for dinner. The scene gave off a vibe of serene simplicity.

Perhaps sensing my stare, he glanced over with a light chuckle. "Why are you looking at me?"

"I just like looking at you." My response was straightforward.

After all, admiring my husband was nothing to be embarrassed about, especially since he was quite the looker as if sculpted by the divine hands of God himself.

He was about to reply when his phone, tucked in his pants, rang.

As he was filleting a fish, he couldn't answer it himself. "Honey, could you get that for me?"

"Sure." I moved to his side, reaching hesitantly into his pocket, a blush creeping up my cheeks.

Our intimacy was usually for the privacy of our bedroom, and outside of it, we maintained. a respectful distance.

Noticing my hesitation, he glanced at me with a playful smirk. "We've been married for years. What's there to be shy about? It's just a phone, not anything else."

"I know..." Despite my attempt to be careful, my hand brushed against him through the fabric, igniting an awkwardness between us.

Flustered, I managed to retrieve the phone, only to meet his meaningful gaze as I did.

The caller ID displayed Kevin. "Kevin, Bryant can't talk right now. What's up?" I asked after answering.

"Mrs. Ferguson." Recognizing my voice, Kevin paused before speaking, "It's nothing urgent. I just wanted to check a detail in a contract with the boss. Monday Is fine."

Neither Bryant nor I dwelled much on this little episode.

Lately, I'd been feeling unusually sleepy, and after dinner, while Bryant and I were taking a stroll in the backyard to digest, I could barely keep my eyes open.

After a shower, I hit the bed and was out like a light. I had been sleeping soundly but was rudely awakened in the middle of the night by the need to use the bathroom.

Turning on the light, I noticed Bryant wasn't in bed. Coming to a bit, I heard voices from

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Bryant's voice was cold and terse. "So, you're just going to hand her the knife if she wants to die! Call 911 if you have to! What's calling me going won't do it! How

10 do? Am I a doctor or a cop? She many times has she threatened to end it all without a scratch? Tell her I won't divorce Jane! She should get that through her head!"

His voice dropped even further as he added, "But ensure she doesn't hurt herself. Keep someone on her."

I couldn't catch that last bit.

Bryant stood with his back to me, one hand resting on the railing, his entire demeanor exuding frustration.

Margaret's obsession with him left me feeling somewhat helpless.

After returning from the bathroom, sleep evaded me. Soon after, Bryant returned to the bedroom, gently palling me-into his embrace. His presence was comforting, carrying the coolness of early autumn nights.

However, when I woke up, he was gone again. searched the house but found no sign of him. He had promised to accompany me to the hospital today.

Emma mentioned, "Mrs. Ferguson, Mr. Ferguson left early this morning. It seemed like an emergency."

I stopped for a sec, then figured I'd just call him from the home phone since I left my cell upstairs.

Soon, Bryant's weary voice came through. "Hello?"

Sensing something was off in his tone, I asked, "What's wrong?"

Bryant said, "Jane, could you have Emma go with you to the hospital? I don't think Pcan make it today."