Chapter 4

Their smiles froze. They looked awkward, mouths slightly open, not knowing what to say.

"I have to get to the hospital," I said. "I'm leaving."

It was my rotation in the ER that day. All morning, I barely stopped moving—triage, examinations, charting. My fingers carried the sharp smell of disinfectant.

Then I heard a nurse call out, "Henry's parent, please sign here."

I saw Jonathan stand up and sign the form. Instinctively, I wanted to hide. But our eyes met.

The color drained from his face. Panic flashed across his eyes.

I turned to leave, but he and Lucy hurried over and blocked my way.

Jonathan grabbed my wrist, his voice tight with urgency. "Honey, listen to me. I can explain—"

Before he could finish, Lucy cut in, saying, "Anna, I took Henry to the mall. I wasn't paying attention, and he had some mango. Then—well—Jonathan's office happened to be nearby, so I called him to drive us to the hospital. Anna, please don't get the wrong idea."

I listened to their excuses without a flicker of emotion. I pulled my hand free and said flatly, "I know. I'm not misunderstanding anything. He's your brother-in-law and Henry's uncle. Of course he'd help."

The words had barely left my mouth when Henry started screaming, "You bad woman! He's not my uncle—he's my dad."

Lucy panicked and quickly covered Henry's mouth. "Anna, you know how it is. Henry's father works in research. They barely see each other all year. Jonathan just happens to be in Harborville, and Henry's close to him, so he calls him 'Dad' out of habit."

She nudged the boy. "Henry, she is your Aunt Anna."

Henry shook his head wildly. "No! I hate her."

The crowd around us kept growing, everyone staring and whispering.

Jonathan, meanwhile, made no move to explain himself. "If Henry doesn't want to say it, then don't," he said coolly. "We're family. Helping out is no big deal." Then he turned and walked off.

Jonathan suddenly grabbed my arm, but as soon as he heard Henry crying, he let go.

There it was. To him, I was never as important as they were.

When I got home, I began packing my personal belongings. In our first year of marriage, Jonathan and I turned our new place into a cozy little home just for us. Every corner was filled with our shared memories.

During the three years apart, his things had slowly disappeared until there was no sign he had ever lived here at all. This place had been mine alone for a long time now.

At some point, Jonathan came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. "Honey, why are you packing?"

I zipped up the suitcase and answered without hesitation, "I have to go out of town for some research soon."

He believed me, or maybe he just didn't care enough to question it.

I turned to face him and lifted my hand, pointing at his chest. "What's this tattoo about? How come I've never seen it?"

Last night, I had noticed there were initials "LS" inked at about an inch above his heart.

Jonathan froze for two seconds. His gaze dropped to his chest. He kept his tone light, but there was a deep warmth and affection hidden underneath. "Just something I got. I didn't really think much about it."

Then he slid his hand to my waist, fingers brushing slowly across my stomach. "Honey, you slipped through my fingers last night. Tonight, even if you cry, I'm not stopping."

I pressed his hand down. "I'm sleeping in the guest room tonight. I have a case consultation tomorrow."