“I’m not.”
“Then why?”
He hesitated for one heartbeat too long.
Then his pager went off.
He glanced at it, and whatever answer had almost surfaced disappeared.
“I need to step out,” he said. “I’ll come back.”
After he left, Rachel leaned toward me.
“That man knows something.”
I frowned. “About what?”
“About Michael.”
I wanted to dismiss it.
I wanted to say she was being dramatic, because that was the word everyone used when women saw danger too early.
But I had spent eleven years ignoring small alarms.
I would not ignore them anymore.
At 7:43 a.m., Michael finally arrived.
Not soaked from rain.
Not frantic.
Not pale with fear.
He walked into my hospital room wearing yesterday’s navy suit, hair slightly messy, collar open, smelling faintly of expensive cologne and whiskey.
Behind him came Amber Collins.
She wore a cream coat, red lipstick, and the expression of a woman entering a room she had already claimed.
Rachel stood immediately.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
Michael barely looked at her.
“Catherine,” he said, voice tight. “We need to talk.”
I stared at him from the bed, Lily asleep in my arms.
Something inside me expected him to collapse.
To apologize.
To rush toward his daughter.
To become, even for one moment, the man I had once believed he was.
Instead, his first words were:
“You embarrassed me last night.”
The room went still.
Even the nurse stopped writing on the chart.
Rachel made a sound like she might commit a felony.
I looked at Michael.
Slowly.
Carefully.
“You missed your daughter’s birth.”
His jaw tightened.
“I was handling a crisis.”
Amber sighed. “Catherine, this is exactly what I meant. You’re making this emotional when Michael has responsibilities.”
I laughed.
It came out broken and cold.
“Responsibilities?”
Michael glanced at Lily, then away.
“She’s healthy, isn’t she?”
The nurse’s face changed.
Rachel stepped forward. “Get out.”
Michael ignored her.
“I came here to explain before you start calling everyone and twisting the story.”
“The story?” I whispered.
Amber folded her arms.
“The story where you called him fifty times like a lunatic while he was at an important private event.”
I looked at her.
“Private event?”
She smiled.
“Business development.”
Rachel snapped, “Is that what we’re calling sleeping with married men now?”
Amber’s face hardened.
Michael finally raised his voice.
“Enough!”
Lily startled and began to cry.
The sound tore through me.
I pulled her closer.
That was the moment Dr. Brooks reentered.
He didn’t ask what was happening.
He didn’t need to.
His eyes moved from Lily’s crying face to Michael’s cold expression to Amber standing too comfortably beside him.
Then he said, calmly, “This patient needs quiet. You both need to leave.”
Michael turned. “Who the hell are you?”
