I Stopped Loving Him When He Let Me Bleed Out novel Chapter 1

At 3:12 a.m., a woman with slashed wrists was wheeled into the emergency room.

The man striding beside the gurney was tall and impeccably upright, dressed in a pilot's uniform, the four stripes on his shoulders seeming to carry the chill of a night flight.

His intense gaze was filled with unmistakable worry.

He was likely the woman's husband.

He was also Sienna Sterling's ex-boyfriend.

The nurse held out the medical chart, leaving it suspended in mid-air as Sienna's hands remained hidden in her white coat, trembling slightly, forgetting to reach for it.

After four years apart, Finn Fletcher had shed his youthful arrogance; his bright eyes now carried a heavy, imposing calmness.

"Dr. Sterling?"

Sienna snapped back to reality and took the chart.

At that exact moment, Finn's gaze landed on her face.

She caught the flash of shock in his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering briefly in disbelief.

Sienna didn't look at him again, immediately turning her attention to examining the wound.

The cut wasn't deep, having missed the tendons, but the heavy bleeding made it look terrifying.

She dictated the medical assessment, her tone perfectly even.

In her peripheral vision, he stood frozen.

His hands gripped the metal railing at the foot of the bed, knuckles turning pale.

"Prep the OR, I need to suture the wound."

On the way to the operating room, Sienna brushed her fingers against the scar on her own left wrist.

Four years ago, Finn had proposed, only to break up with her the very next day.

She had cut her wrists, her blood filling the bathtub.

Her situation had been far more critical than this.

She had been rushed to the resuscitation room, barely surviving after two days and two nights of fighting for her life.

The first thing she did upon waking was ask her best friend, Lily James, to call Finn.

They had put him on speakerphone, and in her hazy state, she heard the voice on the other end:

"If she wants to die, let her die. I wouldn't even go to her funeral!"

From that moment on, she completely understood.

Her life meant absolutely nothing to Finn, let alone her pathetic, desperate clinging to their love.

Inside the OR, the surgical lights above were blinding and cold.

She kept her head down, tending to the patient's wound—stopping the bleeding, cleaning, and suturing.

Her hands remained remarkably steady.

Halfway through the suturing, Chloe Cross woke up.

She groggily opened her eyes and saw Sienna's face.

After a brief moment of shock, she quickly composed herself and smiled.

She didn't turn around immediately.

She just stood there with her back to Chloe for two seconds.

The operating room was so quiet that the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor echoed in the air.

Then, she turned around.

Walking back to the edge of the bed, she looked down at Chloe and offered a small smile.

"You don't need to explain. I've seen plenty of these cheap little stunts; you aren't special."

She paused. "It's always pathetic, unloved women hurting themselves just to beg for a little attention. I do hope you aren't like them."

Chloe's face drained of color for a second, her lips parting, but no sound came out.

-

Patients with self-inflicted wounds required a two-hour observation period and could only be discharged with the attending physician's approval.

Sienna stood at the doorway of the observation room, the door pushed half open.

Finn stood by the hospital bed with his back to the door.

She stared at his broad back, memories of their three-year relationship rushing in.

Once, when she had been hospitalized for acute gastroenteritis, he had stood guard by her bedside in the exact same way.

Now, all that tenderness belonged to someone else.

"As long as you don't hurt yourself again, I'll agree to anything. York needs you."