Chapter 2
"Naomi's in bad shape. I'll go over and we'll talk tomorrow."
"Samuel," I said, "if you walk out that door, there isn't going to be a tomorrow for us."
He paused for a moment.
"Lauren, don't threaten me with that."
The door shut behind him.
The room went quiet again.
I picked up the container and pressed the call button.
When the nurse came in, I held it out to her.
"Could you throw this out for me?"
She looked at the container, then at me.
"What do you feel like eating? I'll grab it downstairs."
I froze for a second.
It was one sentence from a stranger, and it made my eyes burn.
I lowered my head.
"Plain oatmeal is fine."
Half an hour later, she came back with a bowl of plain oatmeal and a hard-boiled egg.
"On me," she said. "Don't cry."
I bit into the egg.
My tears landed in the oatmeal.
For three years, I had known Samuel's tastes better than I knew my own birthday.
He hated onions, so onions never went into anything I cooked.
His stomach acted up, so antacids lived in my purse year-round.
He worked past midnight, and no matter how tired I got, I stayed awake and left a lamp on for him.
What I couldn't eat stuck in his head.
He never noticed when I was hurting.
A stranger knew I needed a warm bowl of oatmeal.
But he didn't.
The next morning, Samuel didn't show up.
Janet did.
She pushed the door open with a fruit basket in one hand and Naomi trailing behind her.
Naomi wore a white dress, and she did look pale.
A single bandage covered the back of her hand.
Her eyes went red the second she saw me.
"Lauren, I'm so sorry."
I leaned back against the pillows and watched her.
"Sorry for what?"
She bit her lip.
"If I hadn't begged for a ride with you two, none of this would have happened."
Janet patted her hand right away.
"Sweetheart, a car accident isn't your fault."
Then she turned to me.
"Lauren, Naomi came all the way here to see you, so lose the attitude."
I smiled, "She came to see me empty-handed?"
Naomi's expression froze.
Janet frowned. "Why do you have to keep score over everything?"
"I keep score?"
I looked up at her.
"I was stuck in that car and your son carried her out first. She shows up to apologize with nothing in her hands. And I'm the one keeping score?"
Her face soured.
She said, "Samuel has a loyal heart."
I said, "Then my divorce is loyalty too."
She froze.
"What divorce?" she blurted out.
Something bright flickered through Naomi's eyes and vanished.
I caught it.
She hid it well, but three years of watching her perform had trained my eye.
Janet's voice climbed.
"Lauren, have you lost your mind? You want a divorce over something this small?"
"Something this small?"
I unlocked my phone and pulled up the clip somebody had filmed at the scene.
A stranger on the sidewalk had shot the whole thing.
The front end was caved in, and the passenger door wouldn't open.
I sat inside with blood down my face, still slapping the window.
Samuel stood at the curb holding Naomi and said her name over and over.
Somebody off camera yelled, "There's still a woman in there. Get her out first!"
But Samuel didn't even spare a glance back.
The comments underneath had blown up.
[Isn't the one in the passenger seat his wife?]
[The girl in the back looks fine to me.]
[One second of crisis and you find out exactly who a man loves.]
[His wife's face is covered in blood, and he's busy comforting somebody else.]
I handed the phone to Janet.
"Take a look. Does the whole internet think it's small too?"
Her face changed.
She never expected anyone to catch it on camera.
Naomi recovered faster, and the tears came right on cue.
"Lauren, did you post that? I don't care what people say about me, I only care about what it does to Sam."
I almost applauded.
One sentence, and the blame for dragging Samuel through the mud landed squarely on me.
I said coolly, "I didn't post it."
She choked up.
"But thanks for the idea," I added.
I tapped the share button.
"I should keep a copy, in case somebody decides later that I made a fuss over nothing."
Naomi's face went even paler.
Janet panicked.
"Delete it. If people we know see that, where does it leave Samuel?"
I looked up at her.
"He threw his own reputation away. Why am I the one carrying it?"
Janet reached for my phone.
A voice cut in from the doorway.
"The patient just had a procedure. She needs to stay calm," the voice called out.
I looked up.
A man in a white coat stood at the door with a chart in his hand.
His face gave away nothing. His gaze swept past Janet and settled on my stitches.
"If you keep this up, I'll call security," he said.
Janet choked on whatever she meant to say.
She always used her status as an elder to boss people around, but when outsiders were watching, she suddenly got all concerned about her reputation.
"Oliver," Naomi said softly, "we only came to visit Lauren."
His name was Oliver Grant.
I remember that name.
He was the one who had pulled me out of that mangled car the night of the crash.
Before I blacked out, I saw him drape his coat over me, and his voice came out cold.
"Stay awake, Lauren. Do you hear me?"
The nurse told me afterward that Oliver had kept pressure on the wound the whole way into surgery.
He'd also had a few words for Samuel.
They weren't polite ones.
I hadn't had the strength to ask what he said.