He shot me a guilty look, already backing away. "It's the hospital—probably an emergency."
"Think about what I said, okay? I'll be right back."
He retreated to the far end of the corridor, deliberately turning his back to me before answering.
But there was a window in front of him.
And in that glass, clear as day, I watched his reflection transform.
The worry melted away. In its place: warmth. Tenderness. Adoration.
I knew that expression.
I'd seen it when he flew a thousand miles just to surprise me for one weekend.
When he stayed awake for three days straight, holding my hand through a fever.
When he knelt before me at our wedding, voice breaking as he promised me forever.
He used to look at me that way.
Now he was giving it to her.
The girl on the other end of that call.
A strange numbness settled over me.
Edward had a reputation in our circle—the devoted husband, the man who only had eyes for his wife.
Young, successful, handsome. Women threw themselves at him constantly. Even the hospital director's daughter had made her interest painfully obvious.
She'd even made it public—if Edward was willing to be with her, the entire hospital could bear his name.
But Edward hadn't wavered. Not once.