The CEO’s Regret: Begging Her Firefighter Ex-husband

"Just cancel the reservation, Lucas. I can't make it tonight."

Lucas Cole sat alone at a table overlooking the harbor lights. Across from him, his wife's dinner had already gone cold.

Beside her untouched glass sat a small velvet box containing the fifth-anniversary gift he had spent weeks searching for.

"Claire, it's our anniversary," Lucas said into the phone. "You promised we'd spend tonight together."

"Something urgent came up with the harbor project," Claire replied, her voice rushed and dismissive. "I have to deal with it personally."

In the background, a man's soft voice came through the line.

"Claire, hurry up. The car is waiting."

Lucas recognized the voice immediately. It was Julian Miller, the project manager Claire had taken under her wing over the past month.

"Is Julian with you right now?" Lucas asked.

Claire sighed impatiently. "Lucas, I don't have time for this. We can celebrate some other day."

"Claire, wait—"

The call cut off.

Lucas lowered his phone and stared at the empty seat across the table.

Five years of marriage, and Julian had only been back in town for a month. Yet Lucas was already growing used to hearing that name every time Claire broke a promise.

He had turned down transfers to other cities so she could build her business, rearranged his rescue shifts around her schedule, and spent countless nights waiting by the window for her car to pull in.

Tonight, he had only asked for a simple dinner.

Lucas put the velvet box back into his jacket pocket, paid the bill, and walked out into the cold harbor wind alone.

With an empty apartment waiting for him, he went straight back to the maritime rescue station to take over the night standby shift.

Later that night, well past midnight, the weather took a violent turn as rain began hammering against the windows of the duty room.

The emergency radio on his desk suddenly burst with static.

"All units, code red at Breakwater Three! Survey vessel Orion has struck the rocks. Fire reported below deck, with rapid flooding in the lower hold. Team Leader Cole, report to the pier immediately!"

Lucas stood up before the dispatcher even finished speaking.

"Team Leader Cole responding," he said, clipping the radio on. "I'm on my way."

By the time the rescue cutter reached the scene, heavy black waves were breaking over the damaged ship's stern.

Thick smoke poured from an open cargo hatch. One crew member had already been pulled from the water, but two people were still trapped below.

Lucas checked the listing hull and turned to his squad.

"Keep the boat alongside and have the stretcher ready," Lucas ordered. "I'm going down."

He strapped on his helmet and pulled his breathing mask tight before jumping onto the slick deck.

The lower corridor was thick with suffocating smoke. Lucas followed the sound of coughing down the passage, kicking open a jammed metal door at the end of the hall.

Two figures were huddled in the corner.

A woman was kneeling in the rising water, cradling a man against her chest and holding his head up as he gasped for air.

Lucas stopped dead in his tracks.

It was Claire.

And the man coughing in her arms was Julian Miller.

For a second, the breath caught in Lucas's throat.

His wife had claimed a corporate emergency kept her from their anniversary dinner. Yet here she was, on a flooded survey ship, holding Julian so tightly that she barely seemed aware of the freezing water around her boots.

So this was the emergency she couldn't walk away from.

"Rescue team!" Lucas shouted through his mask. "We need to get you out. Stay low and follow me."

Claire looked up, squinting through the smoke. She couldn't see his face behind the heavy visor.

"Please, help him first!" Claire cried out frantically. "He can't breathe!"

Lucas checked the dark smoke rolling across the ceiling.

"The corridor is about to flash over," Lucas said firmly. "Get on your feet. There's an exit hatch right ahead."

"Give Julian your mask!" Claire demanded.

"I need it to guide you both out."

"He's choking to death!" Claire lunged forward, grabbing the front of his jacket with both hands. "Give him the mask right now!"

"Ma'am, calm down and listen to me—"

"I don't care about your procedures!" Claire shouted, her voice shrill with anger. "If anything happens to him, I'll make sure your entire department pays for it!"

Lucas stared at her in utter disbelief.

He had heard her speak to difficult corporate rivals like that, but he never imagined she would threaten a rescuer risking his life to save hers.

When he reached down to pull her hands away, Claire grabbed the edge of his facepiece and yanked with all her strength.

"Give it to him!"

The strap snapped with a sharp tear, scraping across his cheek as the mask was torn away.

A cloud of hot, toxic smoke rushed straight into his lungs. Lucas dropped to one knee, coughing so violently that tears blurred his vision.

Claire froze.

With the mask gone, the dim emergency light hit his face.

"Lucas?"

Her fingers loosened, the mask dangling in her hand.

"Oh God... Lucas? I didn't know it was you."

Lucas braced one hand against the steel wall, fighting through the burning in his chest.

"Put it on him," Lucas coughed out, his voice hoarse and raw. "The compartment is flooding. Move!"

Claire hesitated for a fraction of a second, then quickly strapped the mask over Julian's face and hauled him to his feet.

Lucas pushed himself up and led them toward the stairwell, keeping one hand against the wall as the ship groaned beneath their feet.

They had almost reached the ladder when a sudden, violent shudder ripped through the hull.

Above them, a heavy steel equipment rack broke free from the ceiling bolts.

Lucas saw the shadow falling straight toward Claire's head.

"Watch out!"

He shoved Claire through the doorway with both hands. Julian stumbled in right behind her, landing hard on the steps.

Before Lucas could follow, the massive steel rack crashed down.

A sickening snap echoed over the roar of the water.

White-hot pain tore through Lucas's right shin, and he collapsed against the metal railing. The heavy iron frame had crushed his lower leg against the deck.

Lucas bit through his lip to stifle a scream, grabbing the edge of the rack with bloody fingers.

Using every ounce of strength in his upper body, he hoisted the iron beam just high enough to drag his mangled leg free.

He collapsed against the stairs, gasping for breath. When he tried to put weight on his right foot, the bone gave way completely.

"Lucas!"

Claire scrambled down two steps, reaching her hands toward him.

Lucas caught the handrail to keep from slipping under the black water.

"My leg is broken," Lucas breathed, cold sweat dripping down his face. "Help me up the ladder."

Claire grabbed his arm.

Just then, another massive swell slammed into the side of the ship.

A surge of freezing seawater burst down the corridor, crashing against the lower steps and rising to their waists.

Julian began thrashing on the stairs above, hyperventilating behind the mask.

"Claire! The water's coming up!" Julian cried, clutching her coat with shaking hands. "I can't breathe... I can't do this! Please, don't leave me!"

Claire turned around instantly.

"Julian, look at me," she said, her voice dropping into a gentle, soothing tone. "Breathe. You're going to be fine."

Julian shook his head frantically, his face pale with terror.

"You know what happened when my family drowned... I can't be in the water. I can't!"

"I'm right here," Claire assured him, her hands holding his face. "We're right at the exit."

Lucas gripped the iron railing until his knuckles went white. The water had reached his chest, and his broken leg was throbbing with agony.

"Claire," Lucas called out, his voice strained. "I can't stand. I need you to help me."

Claire turned back, her face torn with indecision.

"Julian is having a panic attack, Lucas! He can't climb that ladder on his own!"

"Then shout up to my crew!" Lucas urged. "Tell them I'm down here with a broken leg!"

"I will! Just let me get him onto the deck first!"

"Claire, I can't walk!"

Claire's face hardened with stubborn conviction.

"Lucas, you're a rescue team leader! You deal with emergencies every single day. Julian is civilian—he can't handle this!"

Lucas looked at his wife, the cold water chilling him to the bone.

"Knowing how to handle an emergency doesn't make a broken bone walk, Claire."

"I'll come straight back for you!" Claire shouted over the rushing water. "I swear I will!"

She turned away, wrapped Julian's arm around her shoulder, and guided him up toward the hatch.

Lucas reached out a hand, his fingers catching only the cold spray of seawater.

"Claire, please! Don't leave me down here!"

She didn't look back.

A second later, the heavy iron hatch slammed shut from above.

Lucas floated in the dark corridor, staring up at the closed hatch.

He listened intently, waiting for the sound of boots returning down the iron rungs.

One minute passed. Two minutes.

Nothing came.

For five years, Lucas had believed that no matter what happened, if he ever faced death, his wife would be the one person standing by his side.

Now, trapped inside a sinking tomb, he finally saw the truth: she had abandoned him without a second thought to comfort another man.

The water reached his chin.

Waiting was no longer an option—it was suicide.

Lucas spotted a bent copper pipe floating in the debris. He grabbed it, jamming it against the deck to use as a makeshift crutch.

Gritting his teeth against the blinding pain, he dragged his shattered leg toward the ladder.

He hauled himself onto the first rung with his arms. His broken bone scraped against the iron, sending a wave of nausea through his gut.

He pressed his forehead against the freezing metal until the dizziness cleared, then dragged himself up another step.

Inch by inch, pulling his dead weight entirely with his trembling arms, he climbed toward the light.

When he finally reached the hatch, his strength was nearly gone. He slammed his shoulder against the iron door, threw it open, and dragged his body out onto the rain-lashed deck.

"Team Leader!"

A lookout spotted him through the downpour and screamed.

"Team Leader Cole is on deck! Get the stretcher! Medic, over here!"

Two divers rushed across the listing deck, catching Lucas under his arms and hoisting him into the rescue cutter.

Lucas lay on the metal floor of the boat, shivering violently. His right trouser leg was torn and soaked in dark red, and the medic was already cutting the fabric open.

Lucas reached out with a trembling hand, grabbing his teammate's sleeve.

"Where is Claire?"

The crewman looked down, his eyes filled with awkward hesitation.

"Mrs. Cole left about fifteen minutes ago, Team Leader. She took the company speed boat to the harbor hospital with Julian Miller."

Lucas stared at him blankly.

"She... left?"

"Yes, sir." The crewman looked over at the sinking hull of the Orion. "Nobody told us you were trapped below, Team Leader. Mrs. Cole said the lower deck was clear."

Lucas's fingers slowly slid from his teammate's sleeve, falling limp against the deck.

She had sworn she would come straight back.

She hadn't even told his men that he was drowning beneath their feet.

The medic shouted his name, pressing an oxygen mask over his face, but the sound faded into a dull, hollow roar.

Lucas closed his eyes, letting the darkness take him.