My CEO Ex-Husband Begs to Remarry

Tara's POV

The fluorescent lights of the Manhattan General Hospital's operating room blurred above me as I fought to stay conscious. My body felt like it had been torn apart. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, and every breath sent sharp daggers of pain through my chest.

"Mrs. Carter, we need the consent forms signed immediately." The surgeon's voice was urgent. "Your condition is critical."

Luke Carter, CEO of Carter Group, my husband of three years, was somewhere in this same hospital. Just not here, and not with me.

"I'll... sign them myself," I managed to say, my medical credentials giving me the authority to do so.

With trembling fingers, I reached for my phone one last time. The screen was cracked, much like everything else in my life right now. I dialed Luke's number, holding onto a final thread of hope.

The call connected on the third ring.

"Luke..." My voice came out weaker than I intended. "After you took Sarah away, they detonated the bombs. I'm severely injured..."

His laugh cut through me sharper than any of the shrapnel had. "Ah, the same old act again. Tara, stop pretending."

I held back the intense pain, continuing, "I'm in the operating room right now. I need you to—"

The bitter mockery in his tone was unmistakable. "Let me guess. This time, you want money, right? How much are you asking for this time?"

"I'm not—"

"Save it," he cut me off, his voice sharp as steel. "Your accidents are always too perfectly timed. I'm tired of your performances."

The line went dead before I could respond. I let the phone slip from my fingers, no longer having the strength to hold onto it – or onto any remaining illusions about my marriage.

"Ms. Taylor, we need to begin now," the surgeon insisted, his face showing growing concern at my vitals displayed on the monitor.

I signed the forms with the last of my strength. As the anesthesia began to take hold, my last conscious thought wasn't of the surgery, but of Luke's words: "I'm tired of your performances."

The steady beeping of heart monitors gradually filtered through the darkness. I could feel the heavy blanket of post-operative medication clouding my thoughts. I kept my eyes closed, listening to the nurses' conversation as they checked my vitals.

"Poor thing," one of them whispered. "Four hours of surgery and not a single family member waiting."

"Well, in the contrary," the other replied, adjusting something on my IV. "Mr. Carter's been in the private suite all day, taking care of that Quinn heiress."

"Sarah Quinn? The one from the same incident?"

"Yes, he hasn't left her side for a moment."

“That’s so sweet. Are they dating?”

“It is quite possible, after all, they often go to banquets together, appear in the media. And Mr. Carter takes such good care of Miss Quinn.”

Their voices faded as they moved away, but their words had already done their damage. Luke was indeed in the hospital, for Sarah.

I waited until the nurses' footsteps completely disappeared before opening my eyes. The ICU room was dimly lit, the machines around me casting a pale glow across the sterile space. My body felt like lead, but I needed to see it for myself.

Each motion sent waves of pain through my sutured wounds, but pain had long been an old friend. I'd experienced far worse when I lost my entire family.

The private suite on the top floor was more luxury hotel than hospital room. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city skyline. Clinging to the shadows of the adjacent balcony, I could see everything clearly through the glass.

Luke sat beside Sarah's bed, his posture protective as he leaned forward in his chair. She looked perfectly comfortable in her designer nightgown, not a hair out of place.

"Luke," Sarah's voice carried through the glass, soft and vulnerable. "I'm feeling a bit dizzy..."

The immediate concern that flooded Luke's face sent a sharp pain through my chest that had nothing to do with my injuries. "I'll call the doctor right away."

"No," she reached out to grab his hand instantly. "I just... I can't stop thinking about Tara..."

"Don't worry about that now." His voice was gentle, tender in a way I hadn't heard in months. "You need to rest. I'm right here with you. Should I adjust the temperature?"

I watched as Sarah settled back against her pillows, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She had played her part perfectly.

The scene before me blurred, and for a moment, I thought the pain medication was wearing off. Then I realized I was crying. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks.

Three days earlier

The abandoned warehouse in in the suburbs smelled of rust and rotting wood, the musty scent mixing with my growing fear until I could barely breathe.

My wrists were raw and bleeding from struggling against the restraints, each heartbeat sending fresh waves of pain through my arms. But it wasn't the pain that made my hands tremble – it was the sight of the explosives surrounding us. There would be no surviving this if something went wrong.

I silently prayed. Luke, please come for me.

Sarah sat beside me, her designer dress now dirty and torn. To anyone else, she would have appeared as terrified as I was. For some reason, she kept glancing at the warehouse entrance.

The explosives' timer had only minutes left.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the warehouse. Luke appeared in the doorway, his tall figure backlit by the afternoon sun. I desperately wanted to believe that he was for me, that he was furious at anyone who would dare harm his wife.

The kidnapper's voice crackled through the warehouse speakers. "Mr. Carter, the rules are simple. You can only save one person."

I watched Luke's eyes scan the room. His gaze passed over me as if I were part of the warehouse machinery, fixing instead on Sarah. In that moment, I knew with crushing certainty what his choice would be.

"I choose Sarah." His voice was completely devoid of emotion. "As for Tara, do whatever you want."

I was completely at a loss. We had three years of marriage. In the end, I meant nothing to him.

I watched through tears as Luke rushed to Sarah, carefully helping her up carefully. She shot me a triumphant look over his shoulder.

Their figures grew smaller as they hurried away, leaving me alone with the countdown timer and my shattered heart.

The restraints cut into my wrists as I worked to free myself, the skills I'd learned long ago coming back automatically.

The explosive detonated just as I managed to stand. The blast wave threw me forward, and I felt the heat sear my back. Glass and metal fragments tore through my skin as I desperately tried to reach the exit. After that, I lost consciousness.

The Lakeside Park stood silent in the early evening light. For these years, this mansion had been my home, where I had tried to build a life with Luke.

I moved through the familiar rooms one last time. A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I looked at the carefully curated possessions surrounding me – the designer clothes I'd chosen to match Luke's taste and the family photos arranged just so.

On his desk, I left two documents. The first was our divorce agreement, already signed. The second was the deed to the the Lakeside Park, transferring full ownership to him.

My phone buzzed with a message from Blair. The Golden Eagle Resort was ready. It was time for the Taylor Organization to rise again.

I took one last look around the study, remembering the nights Luke had worked late, and the mornings we had shared coffee in comfortable silence. The memories felt like they belonged to someone else now – someone who had died in that warehouse explosion.

"Goodbye, Luke," I whispered to the empty room, walking away from the Lakeside Park.