When I Became the One Who Left

Elise’s POV

“There’s no need,” I said flatly. “She doesn’t need it anymore.”

The day my mother passed, I had called Hayes countless times. Not once did he pick up.

With each ring, the same cold, automated voice repeated itself, hollow and distant. At first, I was furious. But as time passed, the anger faded, replaced by a numbness I couldn’t shake.

For a moment, I considered confronting them, demanding they take responsibility for what happened. For the stress. For the pain that worsened my mother’s condition.

But every time I closed my eyes, I heard her last words: 'Don’t hold onto hate, Elise. Let it go. Live your life freely… gracefully… happily.'

So, I did. Or at least, I tried.

Hayes, however, still thought I was upset about Zara’s little stunt. His brow furrowed, his voice edged with impatience.

“Elise, you don’t need to keep holding on to these little things. The past is the past.”

To him, it was over. A closed chapter.

To me? It never would be.

I lifted my gaze, locking eyes with him, my expression stone cold.

“My mom is gone,” I said, flat and final. “You won’t find her.”

Hayes’s face darkened. His voice turned sharp, cutting through the still air. “Elise! Don’t go too far! No matter what, she’s still your mother. How can you even say something like that? She’s sick—where else would she be if not in the hospital?”

My fingers curled into fists, nails digging into my palms, the anger bubbling up from deep inside.

My mother had treated him like a son. She had given him everything—her warmth, her kindness, even her savings when he hit rock bottom. She helped him rise when life knocked him down.

And in return?

She never knew peace. Not even in her last moments.

That’s when Zara spoke up, her voice dripping with false sincerity.

“Dr. Montague, I know I was thoughtless before, and I’m really sorry. Can you forgive me? Hayes really cares about Auntie. Please don’t be mad at him.”

The mention of my mother’s name, coming from her lips, sent a searing rage through me.

“You don’t deserve to say her name!”

The control I’d been holding on to snapped. I shot up from my chair, fury flooding my veins.

“Get out. I don’t want to see you.”

Hayes stepped in front of Zara instinctively, as if protecting her from me. His eyes went cold.

“Elise, are you really going to act like this?” His voice was harsh, edged with disappointment. “Is this how you, as a doctor, uphold your professional ethics?”

Before I could respond, he pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and turned his back to me. Right in front of me.

His voice was ice.

“I’d like to report Dr. Elise Montague, a surgeon at your hospital, for unprofessional conduct…”

A bitter laugh threatened to rise in my throat, but I swallowed it back down.

So this was who he was now.

Not the man who promised to protect me. Not the man who once called me his home.

The man standing in front of me now didn’t even care enough to hear my side.

He finished his call and turned, walking out without another word. Zara trailed after him, but just before she stepped out, she looked back at me.

And smiled.

It was smug. Triumphant.

Like she was saying, 'See? Hayes is on my side. You? You’re nothing but a joke.'

...

The hospital didn’t fire me, but I got a warning.

Dr. Reeve found out what happened and didn’t waste a second stepping in.

“I applied for your early leave,” she told me the next day, voice firm. “You’re being reassigned to the Global Medical Relief team.”

I didn’t argue.

I packed up my things, filled out the paperwork, and went home.

...

Hayes still hadn’t come back. But his social media?

Constantly updated.

The first post that popped up was an ultrasound picture of Zara’s baby. The caption read, “Can’t wait to meet you, little one.”

The next post was a picture of a freshly painted nursery. “Hurry up and get here, baby. Mommy and Daddy can’t wait to hold you.”

He didn’t block me from seeing any of it.

Maybe he thought I wouldn’t care.

Maybe he wanted me to see.

I stared at the post for a long time before tapping the like button.

An hour later, I checked again.

I had been blocked.

I wasn’t angry.

Instead, I went to his profile and, with one final click—

I blocked him too.

From that moment on, Hayes Westbrook no longer existed in my world.

...

Third Person's POV

Across the city, Hayes sat in his office, staring at his phone. A strange unease settled in his chest, a feeling he couldn’t quite name.

His phone vibrated with an incoming call.

Zara.

He hesitated.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t pick up right away.

Third Person's POV

Hayes Westbrook had been carrying a heavy weight of guilt for days now.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t visited Elise’s mother. Or maybe it was the way Elise had been acting so distant, like she was a million miles away, even when she was standing right in front of him. Either way, something was gnawing at him, refusing to let go.

That evening, he wrapped up work early, picking up the most expensive supplements he could find before heading to the hospital. He barely got inside when he overheard two doctors talking nearby.

"Dr. Montague’s mother passed away a few days ago. We were the ones who personally sent her to the crematorium. You're her son-in-law, right? Didn’t you know?"