Chapter 5

At 11 a.m., David's cousin posted in the family group chat: [Hey everyone, the wedding is off. I can't share the details, but let's say someone caused way too much drama and wasted five years of my cousin's love.]

The chat exploded.

David's aunt sent a voice message: [Girls these days have such a temper. He gave a coworker a ride. Is that really worth calling off a wedding?]

David's coworker chimed in: [Mr. Quinn is such a catch. Maybe Dr. Sanders fell for someone else?]

Emily didn't say anything. Three minutes later, she posted a photo. In it, she sat in the passenger seat, looking pale, holding a set of test results. The picture showed only the diagnosis—gastritis—with no name or date visible.

Her caption was simple: [Sorry, if I were feeling okay, none of this would've happened.]

The group chat quickly took sides. Some called me heartless. Others said I was being dramatic. A few told David to move on.

Olivia sent me a screenshot. [Do you want to explain?]

I replied, [No.]

Olivia sent a string of question marks.

I wasn't interested in explaining myself. That didn't mean I was sitting idle.

I gathered everything from the night before into a file: the passenger seat photo, the slippers, the living room footage, and the credit card statements. Then I sent it to my lawyer friend, Helen Grant.

Helen called me back immediately, "This is a breakup, not a divorce, so there's not much you can claim legally. The renovation costs are negotiable, and you can sue for defamation."

"Send a lawyer's letter first," I said.

"Who should I send it to?" Helen asked.

"To the people spreading lies in the group," I said.

Helen laughed, "A fast decision, huh?"

I glanced at the hospital schedule. "I have three surgeries this afternoon. I don't have time to fight."

Helen replied, "No problem. I'll handle it."

*****

At 1 p.m., I went into the operating room.

When I came out, my phone had blown up. David had sent more than twenty messages. The first one demanded to know why I sent a lawyer after his family. The last one begged me to pick up the phone.

Emily also sent me a long message: [Nora, I never thought things would get this wild. Everyone was worried about David. Why did you have to bring in a lawyer and scare them? I can apologize to you, but please don't ruin David's reputation.]

I replied simply: [Talk to my lawyer.]

She didn't message me again.

As I changed out of my scrubs, Donald, the department head, called out to me, "Nora, handle your personal business. There's a joint medical outreach event tomorrow. You're scheduled to be at the venue for emergency support."

I nodded. "I'll be there."

Donald shot me a glance. "David's company is one of the co-organizers."

I knew what he was getting at. "Work is work."

Donald handed me a file. "Good. One more thing. The city's wound repair project is up for review next week. Have your presentation ready."

I took the file. "Got it."

This project was three years of work by my team. Outsiders saw me as someone who worked at the hospital. They had no idea I spent my days off in the lab.

David didn't know either. All he noticed was that I was busy. He used to say, "You already work crazy hours. Why push youself even harder?"

I never bothered to explain. There was no point telling him something he clearly didn't care about.

*****

That evening, I went back to the hotel to get my cat.

The front desk handed me a paper bag. "Ms. Sanders, Ms. Stone left this for you."

Inside was a freshly washed scarf. The same one David had draped over Emily the night before.

There was a note in the bag: [Nora, take your scarf. No hard feelings. David told me you always have plenty of these anyway.]

I threw the scarf in the trash.

The front desk asked, "Do you want me to dispose of that for you?"

"No, thanks." I stared at the ball of cashmere. "Once something's tainted, it's tainted."

My phone rang again. It was David.

I picked up.

He sounded exhausted. "Did Emily come to you?"

"Yeah, she dropped off a scarf," I replied.

"She was only trying to apologize," he said.

"Cheap way to apologize," I said.

David was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Nora, can we see each other? No one else. Only us."

"No."

"Do you really have to cut things off like this?" David asked.

I stroked my cat's head. "I'm shutting the door once and for all."

He said quietly, "Five years. You don't feel anything?"

That question made me pause. Of course it hurt to leave him.

I miss the old David. The one who used to squeeze next to me under a convenience store awning on rainy days while we ate sandwiches together.

The David who bought me a gift before I performed my first surgery on my own. The one who promised to help me raise our cat until she turned sixteen.

That was the David I wanted. Not the one who brought his assistant into our home, let her wear my slippers, and then asked if I was being too sensitive.

I said, "I miss what we used to have. But I don't want who you are now."

His voice tightened. "I'll transfer Emily."

"It's too late."

"What do you want from me?"

I looked at my reflection in the window. "Stop contacting me."

After hanging up, I blocked him on everything.