Chapter 3

Nathan's face went through about five different expressions in two seconds flat as he witnessed the scene.

While he was examining me, he kept glancing at my face.

My husband had just shown up at the hospital with another woman, and I'd walked right into it.

What really got me was that it was the same surgery, but last time, I went through it completely alone.

Now, the girl only had a regular checkup, and he bought her a lollipop to make her feel better.

His face went red, and I couldn't help laughing. "You're making a way bigger deal out of this than it is."

Nathan shot me a mixed look of frustration and anger. He wasn't gloating like I thought he would.

He put his hand over his eyes, as if he was trying to hold himself together. Finally, he said, "You don't understand. Seeing you hurt is worse than anything."

I froze for a second and then drawled, "So, remind me. Who dumped me in the first place? Who are you trying to impress now with this act?"

He didn't say a word.

To my surprise, Holden was still waiting for me at the door.

He probably heard what we said, but with the divorce coming, I didn't see the point in explaining.

His suit jacket was draped over his arm, all wrinkled. When the wind blew, I caught that faint smell of cigarettes.

Holden didn't smoke. He only did when he was really stressed and didn't know what else to do.

I guess the girl's sickness was really getting to him.

He looked miserable when he saw me.

"When did this happen?" he asked.

I needed to talk to him anyway, so I answered patiently, "Two months ago. You were on that business trip."

"Why didn't you tell me about something this serious?" he demanded.

Something clicked, and he shut his mouth.

Yeah, I did tell him. I called him crying and said, "Holden, my stomach hurts so bad."

What did he say back then?

He said, "Eloise, if you're sick, go to the hospital. I'm not a doctor."

Then he hung up without a second thought.

He didn't even bother to ask why my stomach hurt or check if I was okay.

After the surgery, when that picture of him having dinner with his ex showed up on my phone, I just sat there in my hospital bed, holding my phone and crying all night.

That was when Nathan, who was on the night shift, noticed me.

He stood in the doorway for a while, just watching, before finally walking over.

"Don't worry," Nathan said. "I'm way better at this than whoever you booked. Want me to do it instead?"

When I kept crying and didn't answer, he got nervous. "Seriously, everyone says I'm really good. You can look me up online if you don't believe me. Please stop crying."

Now, touching my scar, I had to admit that Nathan could be annoying, but he really knew what he was doing in the operating room.

Seeing me space out, Holden gently took my hand.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," he said quietly.

I looked up at him.

This wasn't the only thing he had screwed up. Why was he acting all torn up now?

"Honestly, you've been a terrible husband," I said.

I couldn't help but add, "So why did you even marry me?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and repeated, "I'm sorry. I got over myself."

I pointed at the girl standing nearby. "Don't bother apologizing. The divorce agreement is ready. My lawyer is just tweaking a few things. You'll have it by tomorrow."

I added, "Don't keep her waiting."

He grabbed my hand, trying to sound sincere. "She's just my friend's little sister. Tomorrow's the family Thanksgiving dinner. We can talk things through then."

That was when it hit me. The Holden family always had this big Thanksgiving get-together. If I didn't show up, his grandma, Diana Cortez, would be crushed.

I nodded. "Okay, I'll be there."

He offered me a ride, but I shook my head. "I'll just grab a cab. It's fine."

When we first got married, I was the kind of girl who thought my husband could handle anything, always turning to him when things went wrong.

Then, on a stormy night, I was stuck working late until eleven. A creep followed me, so I called Holden, hoping he'd pick me up.

But he only sounded super impatient. "Eloise, you're an adult."

Back when I was still crazy about him, I made excuses for him, thinking that he was just busy and probably stressed.

But then I remember this one time I called him late at night, asking where he was, and he said he was driving a coworker home because it was too late for her to go alone.

There were so many moments like that, too many to ignore anymore.

He didn't care about me because he'd never loved me in the first place.

Thinking back on everything, I let out a long breath. At least now, I finally let it go.

I turned around and saw Nathan standing off to the side, watching me. People walked by all around him, but he looked completely out of place.

"Let me drive you home," he said. "Cabs are hard to find this late."

I was momentarily taken aback. How did Nathan know I hadn't driven here?

He glanced down at my super high heels, and I got it. Of course, my shoes were the giveaway.