Chapter 3
Daphne’s warning is in my personnel file. The hospital still holds a reception for her, and Lucas introduces her to one donor after another before he remembers his wife.
I stand beside him with my hand lightly on his arm. I know when he remembers I am there: his shoulders tighten beneath my fingers, and the smile he gave Daphne becomes careful before he says my name.
“And this is Kate. She manages our pediatric nurses.”
Our pediatric nurses.
I have been married to him for six years, but tonight my marriage is less useful than my job title.
“Twelve years in pediatrics,” I add.
The donor shakes my hand. Lucas turns back to Daphne. I lower my hand; he does not feel it leave.
The reception fills the hospital’s glass atrium with people who can fund programs by signing a check. I changed out of my scrubs in a staff restroom and arrived ten minutes late because a frightened father needed someone to explain his daughter’s medication. Lucas never asked why I was late. Daphne was already beside him, wearing a silver dress and the expression of someone who knew exactly where she belonged.
I follow them from one conversation to another.
Lucas tells a foundation director how Daphne once organized a school fundraiser at seventeen. She reminds him that he lost the cash box for two hours. They laugh before she finishes the story.
Their laughter continues after I step away. I wait for the instinct to smile and make this easier for everyone. It does not come.
An older donor named Mrs. Walsh joins us near the display of children’s paintings. She listens while Lucas and Daphne disagree about which teacher caught them skipping class. Then she touches Daphne’s wrist and smiles.
“Your husband has been telling us wonderful things about you.”
Nobody speaks.
Lucas’s shoulders tighten. Hope rises before I can stop it. He can repair this with four words: Kate is my wife.
Instead, he gives an awkward laugh. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”
He does not say what the misunderstanding is.
Daphne lowers her eyes. A faint blush rises across her cheeks, soft and convincing. She looks embarrassed in the way a woman might look when someone has spoken aloud what everyone can already see.
My face grows hot.
“I’m Lucas’s wife,” I say. “Daphne is the hospital’s interim director.”
Mrs. Walsh’s smile disappears. “Of course. I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me.”
Daphne draws in a quick breath and presses two fingers to her temple. “I think I need some air.”
She walks toward the terrace.
Lucas watches her leave. For one second, I hope he will stay beside me and finish the conversation he allowed to become humiliating.
He turns on me first and raises his voice until the conversations nearest us stop.
“That attitude was unacceptable, Kate. You embarrassed Daphne in front of our donors.”
I stare at him. “She called Daphne your wife.”
“It was an innocent mistake. You’re a nurse manager representing this hospital. Try to remember where you are.”
The heat in my face spreads down my neck. Around us, people study their glasses and the paintings. In their silence, I can feel Lucas’s version settling into place: Daphne is overwhelmed, he is reasonable, and his jealous wife caused the scene.
He leaves me there and follows her outside.
I could stay. I could smile, finish the small talk, and help everyone pretend they did not hear my husband scold me in public.
My fingers are shaking when I place my untouched wine on a passing tray.
I walk out alone.
Through the glass doors, I see Lucas settle his jacket around Daphne’s shoulders. She leans toward him while he speaks close to her ear.
In the parking garage, I save three furnished apartments near the hospital before starting the car.