Wife Bears Child for First Love, I Awaken, Join MSF Forever, Now She Regrets

Chapter 7

I shook my head.

"No, I'm not going back."

As a doctor with Doctors Without Borders, I didn't have a home anymore. Where would I even go?

The only time I could think of going home was when the war was finally over, when there were no more places torn apart by conflict, no more places needing our help. Until then, the world was my home. Anywhere.

"I know I messed up. I shouldn't have lied to you, shouldn't have gotten pregnant so recklessly. Now I'm paying for it. Kieran's condition is really bad... the doctors say it could be just days now. Jude, what am I supposed to do with a child alone? You promised me you'd protect me."

I pulled my hand away from hers, coldly.

"We're divorced, Ottilie. How you live your life from here on out is your business. I've got my own things to do. It's dangerous here, you need to get back to the States."

I started walking toward the camp.

"If you're not going back, then neither am I. I'll stay here with you. Once you're done with whatever you're here for, we'll go home together."

I didn't even respond to her. But just a few steps in, I heard Ottilie answer a phone call. It was from the hospital.

"What? Kieran's dead?"

"I'm coming back right now. Wait for me!"

Just as she hung up, the roar of bombers filled the sky.

Without thinking, I threw myself over Ottilie, knocking her to the ground.

"Jude Wilson, are you insane?" she yelled.

Her voice was swallowed by the explosion that rocked the ground beneath us.

The earth trembled, and dust from the blast showered us.

I ignored her, lifting my head to assess the situation, then quickly got up.

Ottilie was still frozen, completely in shock from the attack.

I turned back, grabbed her, and pulled her up.

"We need to get inside. Now."

I'd seen enough bombings to be used to it, but this was her first time.

She shook, her lips trembling. "Am I... am I going to die here?"

I bit back my emotions, then said, "I'll have the team leader arrange for someone to get you out of here. Don't come back again."

Her face was covered in dust as she gripped her phone tightly, saying nothing.

The team leader soon found some locals, and one of them, driving an old pickup truck, motioned for Ottilie to get in quickly.

Before she left, I slipped extra bills into the driver's hand, making sure he'd get her safely to the airport.

No matter how much was over between us, I wasn't going to let her die here.

Ottilie didn't say a word. She was still in shock, barely responding.

I watched her climb into the truck and drive away.

I felt a flicker of recognition for the way she reacted, but I brushed it off.

Back at the camp, one of my old colleagues came up, eager to gossip.

"Was that your girlfriend? She came all the way here to find you. That's loyalty, man. Not like my girlfriend, who dumped me the second she heard I was going abroad, and found herself a ‘pretty boy' to replace me."

"But wait, why didn't she come back with you?"

I quietly packed up my lunch and replied, nonchalantly, "Not my girlfriend. My ex-wife."

My colleague went silent for a moment, then wisely kept quiet.

And just like that, I put it all behind me.

Until two years later, when I randomly found myself back home.

By now, I had a deeper understanding of medicine, and I wasn't alone. I was coming back with my girlfriend.

We met at the station. She'd been disfigured protecting me, and I promised to care for her for life.

As we spent more time together, I realized how strong my feelings were.

Maybe heaven saw how lonely I was and sent her to me.

This time, I wouldn't let go.

When we arrived at the airport, the director of the central hospital was there to meet me in person.

He took one look at me and gave me a relieved smile.

"You've gotten darker... and thinner too. Those two years must have been tough."

His simple words hit me harder than I expected.

I tried to hold back the emotions welling up inside and pulled him into a tight hug.

Then, I saw her, Ottilie.

She was standing a few yards away, holding a young boy's hand.

She must've heard about my return and came to the airport to see me.

But in just two years, she looked different. She wasn't that fresh-faced beauty anymore. She seemed to have aged a lot.

She didn't come over, just stood there watching me.

I stared at her without a hint of emotion.

My girlfriend, sensing the tension, squeezed my hand and asked, "Is that your ex-wife? Do you want to go talk to her? She looks like she has a lot to say."

I shook my head without hesitation.

"There's nothing to say."

From the moment I walked away from that banquet, Ottilie and I were strangers. There was nothing left between us.

I turned away and got in the car.

Not long after, I got a message from Ottilie.

Over the past two years, she'd sent me messages non-stop, but I never received them. I didn't have a domestic SIM card.

This one, though, was short. Three words: "I'm sorry."

I stared at the message for a while, then deleted it and blocked her.

I snapped my SIM card in half and tossed it out the window, just like I was leaving behind all the regret, the past, and those misplaced feelings.