Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele

[Atlas]

Cordelia falls limp in my arms, her body completely unresponsive as I call her name over and over again.

"Somebody call the paramedics!" I shout into the crowd as I sweep her into my arms. "Hurry, please, I think she might have been poisoned!"Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

At the word "poisoned" the people around me began to panic, worried more about their own safety than that of my wife.

How did this happen? How did I let someone get close enough to hurt her so badly?

Why did I ever let her go?

The paramedics come swiftly. Feeling helpless, I let them take her from me but I refuse to leave her side.

Tilly comes rushing out, the champagne glass in her hand. "You might need this," She holds it out to me wrapped in a napkin. "If she was poisoned, there might be enough here to help them figure out what..." "Thank you," I almost take the glass but then I remember that it is evidence and the police are still nearby. "But can you give this to the police? It will likely help with their current investigation."

Tilly looks confused as if she wants to ask more, but instead, she nods, marching swiftly in the direction of the nearest police officer.

Without looking back, I rush outside to the ambulance. They were closing the back door, sealing her away.

I cannot let it drive away without me. I will not leave her side again.

"Let me in," I bang on the closing door. "I'm her husband!"

They move aside and I take a seat next to her as they cut the elegant dress from her body. I hold her hand as they hook monitors up to her chest and cover her modestly with a sheet.

"I'm so sorry, Cordelia," I murmur against her knuckles as I hold her hand to my lips. "I never should have trusted her."

When we make it to the hospital, the door is swung open and I follow them out. My eyes never leave her motionless form. She seems so small and fragile lying there.

As they begin to wheel her down the hallway of the emergency room the monitors begin to beep erratically.

""What's happening?"

Nobody answers. They wheel her into a receiving room where a technician grabs a defibrillator and begins charging it.

A long, electronic wail rings through the room as the beating of her heart goes completely still.

""Cordelia!"

"Sir! You need to leave!" one of the paramedics evicts me from the room, pushing me back until the doors close in front of me.

Her heart has stopped.

"CLEAR!"

Her body jumps as electricity is pushed through her still heart.

I was too late, damn it!

"CLEAR!" he shouts again as he gives her another shock.

I bite my fist to keep from shouting her name again as the line on the machine jumps back to life. Cordelia seems to gasp awake for a moment before her eyes roll back and she collapses again into a deep slumber. "I'm sorry, but you can't be here," A nurse gives me a sad smile as he guides me to the waiting area. "A doctor will be out to speak with you soon. It would be a big help to us if you could answer a couple of questions."

I try my best, but I have almost no useful information, other than her name, which I give as Cordelia Steele, forgetting for a moment that we are divorced.

We were together for five years and yet there are so many things about her I do not know. Like her blood type, her allergies, or her eating habits-Things that I should have known had I cared enough to learn them. Things I will make sure to learn if I am given another chance.

Hours pass before anyone thinks to look in on how I am doing. While sitting there, I received one call I didn't answer, and several text messages.

They can all wait.

"Mr. Steele," a feminine voice attracts my attention and I look up to see an older woman with a kind smile. "I'm Dr. Keller. Your wife, Cordelia is finally stabilized. The police were able to send over a report from toxicology. It looks like she was given a medical- grade narcotic often used in sedatives. Do you know if she has been taking any medication to help her sleep?

"No," I shake my head. "As far as I know, she wasn't on any medication."

"I see," the doctor looks down at her chart. "Well, she must have a sensitivity to this particular drug because her reaction to it was more intense than it should have been. Thankfully we were able

to keep her from miscarrying, but it was a close situation. We'll want to monitor her pregnancy closely, to make sure there were no side effects or..."

"I'm sorry," I interrupt the doctor as I struggle to process her words. "Did you say pregnancy?"

"Yes, Mr. Steele," the doctor looks up at me curiously. "Your wife is just over two months pregnant."