My Husband Buried Our Kids. So I Buried His Legacy. Fair Trade. Chapter 04
Before I could react, a new call came in. Unknown number. I picked up.
It was Lucian.
He launched into it immediately—no hello, no warning.
“Are you out of your mind?! You know I’m up for full professor next month, right?! Mira’s board certification is in process! And you actually put us on the Africa list?”
“Elara, I get it—you’re sad about the kids. But that wasn’t anyone’s fault”
“They were born with bad hearts—you know that better than anyone! No one could have saved them! Not me, not Mira! It’s not my fault! And it’s not hers!”
“How many times do I have to say it?! I didn’t let you check the footage because I didn’t want you spiraling—you’re already paranoid enough!”
“And now what? You spread rumors about her, and now you’re abusing your power to ship her off to a rural clinic in a conflict zone?”
His voice was always cold and steady. Not anymore. It was cracking. Shaking.
I waited for him to catch his breath.
“You said that trip to Los Angeles was an emergency consult.”
“You said Mira’s Disney post was from a patient’s family forcing you guys to play that game.”
“So which one is the lie? You never had a consult? Or it wasn’t patient’s family?”
The line went dead quiet. Two full seconds of nothing.
“What are you even talking about?” A beat. “That’s not true. You’re—you’re delusional.”
And then I heard Mira’s voice. Close. Right next to him.
“Dr. Drake, the fireworks are about to start. You finally get a break. I don’t want my drama to ruin your mood.”
“When we get back, I’ll apologize to Elara in person. I’ll get on my knees if I have to.”
The call cut off.
Fireworks. Of course. Can’t miss those.
I held the urn. Tears streaming down my face. I cried and I talked, each word sharp and clear.
“Mommy’s not letting them go. Not one of them.”
…
I don’t remember falling asleep. Just remember the crying hurt so bad my chest felt like someone had stomped on it.
Next morning, I woke up with eyelids so swollen I could barely open them.
I put on sunglasses before heading downstairs. Stopped at the kitchen door.
Lucian was at the stove. Wearing an apron. Spatula in one hand, a plate of scrambled eggs in the other.
He turned at the sound of my footsteps. Did a double take when he saw me, but then gave me this casual little smile.
“Morning. Made you breakfast. Come eat.”
“I know you probably overthought everything yesterday. I flew back overnight. Didn’t sleep at all.”
I opened my mouth to say no thanks. Before I could get the words out—
The bathroom door swung open.
A woman came bouncing out in my pajamas. She launched herself straight at Lucian, right into his arms.