Chapter 3

Before Thomas had gotten me far, an ER nurse ran over to say the Patient in Bed Two had taken a bad turn. He let go at once, told me to wait in the duty room, and hurried away.

I stood there a second, then went back to the nurses' station for the thermos of slow-simmered chicken broth I'd simmered for four hours.

I had meant that soup to ease the tension between us. Now it felt completely pointless. Carrying the thermos, I headed for the duty room.

The door wasn't fully shut, and a narrow strip of warm light spilled across the hall. I was just about to push it open when the voices inside stopped me cold.

"Thomas, am I useless?" Sophie's tearful voice drifted through the crack. "My mom's like this, and I couldn't even get her a bed. If it weren't for you, I really wouldn't know what to do."

I looked through the gap. Sophie sat in his office chair with her head lowered, shoulders trembling.

Thomas stood beside her, handing her a cup of water and patting her shoulder. “Don't overthink things. Have some water and rest.”

His tone held a warmth I hadn't heard in so long. "I’ll see Mrs. Lane's treatment through to the end. I've spoken with the specialists. The consultation is scheduled for tomorrow."

Sophie lifted her head, tears rolling down her pale cheeks. "But Emily is upset with me. Her mother is seriously ill too. She’ll blame you for giving the bed to me. Maybe you should give the bed back to her."

Having heard my name, I held my breath. The thermos handle dug deep red marks into my palm.

Thomas fell silent for a few seconds, then pulled out a cigarette and crushed it between his fingers without lighting it. "Don't worry about her. Her mom's condition won't get worse anytime soon. Waiting for next month's bed is the same thing."

Sophie lowered her lashes. "But you two are soon to be married. I'd feel terrible if I came between you and ruined your relationship."

He let out a tired laugh. "Married?" he crushed the cigarette between his fingers. "The engagement was just an old promise between our families. But these past two years, she's gotten too controlling. Everything has to go her way. And it's worn me out."

Sophie kept silent but listened quietly.

"I was just doing what a fiancé should." Thomas sighed, "We both need calm down. I'm going to stall and keep things low-key. If she's the one who finally wants to end the engagement, it'll make things simpler for both families."

The room fell silent again. Sophie set down her cup and rested her head against his arm. He didn't move away. Under the warm lights, the whole scene looked quiet, intimate, and absurdly peaceful.

I stood in the hallway shadows, cold to the bone. So this was the man I'd loved for five years and the fiancé who had once promised he would stand in front of me and protect me.

I thought of the night snow sealed the roads and he carried me nearly two miles through deep drifts to the ER when I had appendicitis.

I thought of the day my mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor, when he held me in the stairwell and told me not to be afraid.

I'd clung to those memories like a lifeline. Even after he crossed every boundary with Sophie, again and again, I kept using the past to make excuses for him.

I looked down at my trembling hands and nearly laughed. How much of his kindness had been real, and how much had only been a doctor's reflex or the satisfaction of playing the good man?

I didn't break down or feel any urge to charge inside and confront him. Even after hearing him plot to force me into ending the engagement, I shed no tears. I only felt a heavy pressure in my chest.

Why should my mother's life be buried for his hypocrisy?

I turned and walked to the trash can at the end of the hall. Then I let go. The thermos and the still-warm soup slammed into the bottom with a dull thud, shattering the pretty lie I'd spent five years believing.

I took out my phone and let its cold glow light my expressionless face. Then I hit the final confirm button on the mortgage application for my apartment. A green prompt popped up: [Your loan application has been submitted. Funds are expected within two hours.]

I turned off the screen and left that five-year relationship, which built on scraps of charity, in the shadows behind me.