Too Late For Regret: My Cold Husband's Tears

Breakfast was a silent affair. Frederica picked at her toast, the gauze on her forehead throbbing. Easton sat across from her, reading news on his tablet. He looked relaxed. Too relaxed.

The TV in the corner was on a financial news channel.

Breaking News: Mccullough Logistics faces massive supply chain halt. Stock opens down 5%.

Frederica's head snapped up. She looked at Easton. He didn't look up from his tablet, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

Before she could accuse him, her phone rang.

It was the hospital.

"Miss Mccullough? It is the ER at New York Presbyterian. Your mother..."

Frederica dropped her fork. It clattered loudly onto the china. "What happened?"

"She attempted to jump from the second-floor balcony of the estate. She is in critical condition."

The room spun. Frederica stood up so fast her chair tipped over.

Easton was there instantly. He caught her arm. "Freddie?" As he steadied her, he was already speaking into his watch. "Get the car. New York Presbyterian. And get Hoffman on a jet. Now."

She shoved him away. "I have to go."

"I will drive," he said, grabbing the keys.

The ride was a blur. When they arrived at the ICU waiting area, Marcus and her sister, Dominque, were already there. They weren't crying. They looked annoyed.

Frederica ran up to them. "Is she alive?"

Dominque rolled her eyes, checking her nails. "She's in surgery. I've already spoken with the estate lawyer. If she remains incapacitated for more than seventy-two hours, Father's guardianship becomes permanent. The surgery's outcome is, from a legal perspective, irrelevant."

Frederica raised her hand to slap her, but Easton caught her wrist, pulling it down.

The doctor came out. He looked grave. "Multiple fractures. Cranial swelling. It is bad."

Marcus stepped forward. "Doctor, if she survives... quality of life?"

The doctor hesitated. "Likely vegetative. Long-term care will be extensive."

Marcus nodded, as if closing a deal. "Then we should consider palliative care."

Frederica gasped. "She is alive! You cannot just let her die!"

"She is a vegetable," Marcus said coldly. "It is bad for the stock."

"You murderer!" Frederica screamed. "I have her medical proxy!"

Dominque laughed. "That expired two years ago, sis. Daddy is the guardian."

Frederica looked at Easton. Help me, her eyes pleaded. Do something.

Easton stood there, his face unreadable. He looked at Marcus, then at the doctor. He didn't speak.

Marcus took his silence for agreement. "See? Even Easton knows it is a waste of resources."

Frederica felt her heart shatter. She turned and ran toward the ICU doors, trying to break through. A nurse grabbed her, holding her back.