Part 6
“She’s trying to hurt you.”
“What did you tell her?”
His eyes moved toward the door.
Leah reached for the call button.
He looked back.
“What are you doing?”
“If you won’t leave, I’ll have a nurse remove you.”
“I told Camille that we had discussed adoption.”
Leah stared.
“We never discussed adoption.”
“After the first ultrasound, you said you were afraid.”
“I said I was afraid of losing the baby.”
“I misunderstood.”
“No.”
“Leah—”
“No one misunderstands miscarriage as adoption.”
His face collapsed.
“I told her the pregnancy might not continue.”
The fetal heartbeat filled the room, fast and alive.
“Why?”
“I was trying to end the conversation.”
“You could have said you chose your wife.”
“I know.”
“You told your mistress our baby might die because that was easier than disappointing her.”
His eyes filled.
Leah had seen Nolan cry at his father’s funeral and once after a college friend died. He did not cry now. The tears remained where they were, brightening his gaze without falling.
“I am sorry.”
“Leave.”
“I can explain why I said it.”
“Leave.”
“I never wanted anything to happen to him.”
“Leave.”
He stood.
At the door, he looked back.
Leah kept her eyes on the monitor.
After he left, she pressed the call button and asked for Mara.
The nurse found Leah shaking.
Not sobbing. Her hands simply would not remain still.
Mara checked the monitor, then pulled the chair close without speaking.
Leah told her about the phone call.
Not because Mara was her friend. They had met less than a day earlier. But Mara had already done the one thing Nolan had not: seen an ugly truth and refused to rename it.
“I need a lawyer,” Leah said.
“I can ask the social worker for independent referrals.”
“I need somewhere to go.”
“We can help with that.”
“I need my car.”
“Your husband drove it from the garage.”
“Of course he did.”
Mara looked at the overnight bag.
“Do you have a friend nearby?”
Leah thought of Beth Torres, who lived twenty minutes away and had once told Leah she could call at any hour, though they had not spoken in two months. Nolan disliked Beth because she asked direct questions and did not accept his silences as depth.
“Yes.”
“Call her.”
Beth answered on the first ring.
She arrived forty minutes later in running shoes and an oversized green coat over workout clothes. She entered the room, saw Leah in the hospital bed, and stopped.
“What happened?”
Leah began with the fall.
She did not reach the affair before Beth sat down and took her hand.
“You’re coming home with me.”
“I need bed rest.”
“I own a bed.”
“My things—”
“We’ll buy things.”
“My car—”
“We’ll get it later.”
“Nolan—”
“Can learn where I live from your attorney.”
Leah looked at her.
“You don’t know everything.”
“I know you’re wearing a hospital gown and your husband is not in the room.”
“That’s not enough.”
“It is for tonight.”
The hospital discharged Leah at four in the afternoon.
Risk management sent a representative with a tablet and careful language. The woman expressed concern, asked Leah to confirm the sequence of events, and described the corridor camera as part of a restricted security system.
Leah declined to sign the summary until an attorney reviewed it.
The representative’s expression cooled slightly.
“We would like to resolve any concerns promptly.”
“My concern is that a hospital board member’s daughter deliberately caused a pregnant patient to fall.”
“We have not reached a conclusion about intent.”
“The nurse did.”
“The nurse described an observation.”
Leah looked at Mara, who stood near the door.
Mara’s face gave nothing away.
Leah handed back the tablet.
“Then preserve the observation.”
On the way out, Beth pushed the wheelchair. Leah’s pale blue dress remained sealed in the clear bag on her lap. Nolan waited near the private entrance beside her car.
He had moved the passenger seat back and placed a pillow against it.
The gesture almost broke her.
For years, he had solved discomfort before she named it. He kept antacids in the glove compartment during the first trimester. He installed a rail beside the bathtub without mentioning it. He learned which side of her back hurt and pressed his palm there while they watched television.
Care had not been false.
It had simply existed beside betrayal.
Beth stopped the wheelchair.
“She’s coming with me.”
Nolan looked at Leah.
“Can we speak privately?”
“No,” Beth said.
Leah touched Beth’s sleeve.
“It’s fine.”
Beth stepped away but remained near enough to hear if voices rose.
Nolan crouched in front of the wheelchair.
“The house is yours.”
“It’s both of ours.”
“I’ll stay elsewhere.”
“Where?”
“A hotel.”
“Not Camille’s apartment?”
“No.”
“Can you promise without checking with her?”
He flinched.
“I’ve cut contact.”
“You called her an hour ago.”
“You asked me to.”
“I asked you to tell her not to contact me.”
“I told her more than that.”
Leah looked toward the hospital’s glass entrance. The Ardent name stretched across a wall in silver letters.
“Are you going to give a statement?”
“Yes.”
“Truthfully?”
“Yes.”
“Will you say you saw her extend her foot?”
His gaze shifted.
“I saw her move her foot into your path.”
“Those words.”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell them about the affair?”
“If it is relevant.”
“It is motive.”
“I know.”
“Will you tell them what she threatened?”
“Yes.”
“And what you told her about the pregnancy?”
Pain crossed his face.
“Yes.”
Leah watched him.
“Why now?”
“Because you asked me to choose.”
“No. I asked you in the corridor.”
He looked down.
A car door closed somewhere behind them.
Leah continued.
“In the corridor, you chose the scene. Then her explanation. Then her panic. Then the hospital funding. Then your job.”
“I was afraid.”
“So was I.”
“I know.”
May you like
“No. You know now because a doctor told you the baby is stable. I was afraid while I was on the floor.”
Nolan rested one hand on the arm of the wheelchair but did not touch her.
