Chapter 4 - The Video Mark Wasn't Supposed to See
Mark sat alone in his car for nearly an hour.
The hospital parking garage was half empty.
Overhead lights reflected against the windshield.
His phone kept vibrating.
Madison.
His business partner.
His mother.
Madison again.
He ignored them all.
Rebecca's message remained open on the screen.
Emily isn't ready to see you. She wants you to understand what happened to the babies before you ask her for anything.
He reread it.
Something about the wording bothered him.
It sounded rehearsed.
Like something Rebecca had written to punish him.
He called her.
She answered on the fifth ring.
"What?"
"Rebecca, this has gone far enough."
Silence.
"Hello?"
"I'm listening."
"Emily is upset. I get that. But keeping me away from my family won't solve anything."
Rebecca took a slow breath.
"You think she's upset?"
"Obviously."
"Mark, my sister almost died."
"I know that."
"Do you?"
He rubbed his forehead.
"I spoke to the doctor."
"When?"
"After the surgery."
"And when you learned she was in intensive care, what did you do?"
He looked through the windshield.
"I gave her space."
Rebecca made a sound he couldn't identify.
"Space?"
"She needed to recover."
"She needed her husband."
"Rebecca—"
"She woke up asking for you."
Mark closed his eyes.
"Listen, I made a mistake."
"One mistake?"
"Yes."
"Mark, you didn't forget an anniversary dinner."
He gripped the steering wheel.
"You don't know the whole story."
"Then tell me."
He hesitated.
Rebecca waited.
"I was at an event."
"What event?"
"A birthday."
"Whose birthday?"
Mark said nothing.
Rebecca's voice dropped.
"Madison's?"
He stared ahead.
"That's irrelevant."
"Is it?"
He hated how calm she sounded.
"Emily knew Madison and I were friends."
"Emily knew you were breaking her heart."
"That's not fair."
Rebecca's voice sharpened.
"Fair?"
The word cracked through the phone.
"Do you want to know what's unfair?"
Mark said nothing.
"What's unfair is watching your little sister sign papers that say she understands she might die during surgery."
His chest tightened.
"Stop."
"What's unfair is hearing three medical teams fight to help three babies breathe."
"Rebecca."
"What's unfair is watching Emily wake up in pain and apologize because she thinks something she did caused the emergency."
"Enough!"
Rebecca fell silent.
Mark's voice echoed inside the car.
He covered his eyes.
For several seconds, he could hear only his own breathing.
Then Rebecca spoke.
"There's something you should see."
He lowered his hand.
"What?"
"A video."
"What video?"
"One that explains why Emily doesn't want to see you."
A message arrived.
A short video attachment.
Mark opened it.
The screen showed a small hospital room.
The camera was angled toward Emily's bed.
She was barely recognizable.
Her hair was damp against the pillow.
Her skin looked gray beneath the bright lights.
Someone was helping her hold a phone.
It was Rebecca's voice in the background.
"Em, do you want to leave him a message?"
Emily nodded weakly.
Mark leaned closer.
His wife's lips moved.
"Mark..."
He stopped breathing.
"I don't know if I'll be here when you get this."
Her voice was broken.
The monitors beeped beside her.
"I don't know if the girls are going to be okay."
A tear slid toward her ear.
"I kept thinking you'd come."
Mark's hand tightened around the phone.
Emily paused to gather enough breath.
"I kept thinking maybe this time..."
Her voice dissolved.
Rebecca whispered something comforting.
Emily shook her head.
"No. Let me finish."
She looked directly toward the camera.
"If I don't make it, please don't tell our daughters that I wasn't strong enough."
Mark felt something cold move through him.
"Tell them I fought."
Emily's eyes closed for a moment.
"Tell them I loved them before I ever saw their faces."
The video ended.
Mark stared at the black screen.
He replayed it.
Then again.
The third time, he couldn't finish.
He pressed the phone against his forehead.
For the first time since the emergency, he began to cry.
Not the controlled tears he had permitted himself at his father's funeral.
Not the polished emotion he displayed when a business deal went wrong.
Something ugly and uncontrollable.
His shoulders shook.
He remembered Emily standing barefoot in their kitchen months earlier.
Holding an ultrasound photograph.
Smiling so brightly it almost hurt to look at her.
Three little heartbeats, Mark.
He had promised her everything.
And when those heartbeats were in danger, he had chosen not to answer.
His phone rang.
Madison.
He stared at the name.
A new text followed.
Are you still at that ridiculous hospital? We need to talk. You can't let Emily manipulate you with the babies.
Mark read it once.
Then a second time.
The words seemed almost impossible.
He typed a response.
Do not contact Emily.
Madison replied immediately.
You promised me you were done with her.
His thumb stopped above the screen.
He looked at the message.
Then at the video.
For the first time, he realized that the two women in his life had been living in completely different realities.
One had been fighting for three premature babies.
The other had been planning a future in which those babies barely existed.
Then Madison sent one final message.
If you don't come over tonight, I'll tell Emily what you said at my birthday party.
Mark stared at the screen.
His face drained of color.
May you like
Because he remembered exactly what he had said.
And he knew that if Emily heard it, there might be no way to repair what he had broken.
