“It’s always going to be there, and I look at you differently now.”
Was this really happening? I closed my eyes and opened them again, wanting this to be a nightmare. But it wasn’t. “That’s what therapy is for, Catherine. We can work through this—as husband and wife.”
She dropped her gaze, silently refuting the suggestion.
“We just started trying to have a family. How can we go from that to this in only a few months?”
She kept her eyes down.
“I know you’re devastated right now. I get it. I’m trying to be understanding. But let me refresh your memory of our situation. We’re married. We’re committed to each other through bad and good, sickness and in health, forever. We put in the work to fight for this relationship and spend our lives together. We’re going to be buried next to each other in the cemetery down the road. That’s what we promised each other.”
“And you promised me he would live…”
I inhaled a sharp breath between my clenched teeth. “You made me, Catherine. You forced me to, and I love you so fucking much that I wanted to give you whatever the fuck you wanted. How dare you hold that against me.”
She turned away and grabbed her bags.
I lost my temper and snatched them out of her hand and threw them on the ground. “What the fuck, Catherine? Is your love for me so weak to let this break us? It’s bullshit.”
“It’s not that I don’t love you. But it’s different now. When couples lose a child—”
“We have not lost a child, Catherine. This is a completely different situation. Every marriage has its problems, and we’ll get through this like everyone else. I’m willing to do whatever you need, put in all the work to keep us together. Because you’re my wife—and I love you so fucking much.”
She started to cry again. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry. Just work on this with me.”
She looked down at the bags where I’d dropped them then picked them up again.
“I can’t believe this.”
She hooked the straps over her shoulder then moved to the door, not looking back at me, just walking out.
“Wow…” I turned to watch her leave, unable to control my anger and my pain at her betrayal. I dedicated my life to helping people, and she knew that better than anybody. It was one of the reasons she’d fallen for me in the first place. And now she’d decided to turn her back on me, when I cared about my patients more than any doctor ever did. “I can’t believe that your resentment is stronger than what we have. Take some time to pull your head out of your ass. Maybe I’ll still be around by then.”
Two weeks passed.
No texts. No calls. Nothing.
My phone was always in my hand, always waiting and hoping to see the screen light up with her name.
But that never happened.
It was hard to resist reaching out to her, not because I was stubborn, but because I wanted her to come back and apologize to me on her own, to fight for this marriage because our time apart made her realize how much she loved me.
But that didn’t happen either.
I didn’t tell my family what was going on. I didn’t want them to hate Catherine if she came back and we worked on our problems. My parents were kind and forgiving, but I knew it would change their opinion of her forever.
I still wanted to make this marriage work because I loved her.
I really loved her.
Home alone, I turned weak and texted her. I miss you.
The dots didn’t show up. A response didn’t come through.
Baby, come home. Please.
The next day I was in my office, my phone still quiet because I hadn’t gotten a response from her. We hadn’t spoken once since she’d walked out with her bags in hand. Were her nights just as sleepless as mine?
My assistant opened the door. “Dr. Hamilton, there’s a lawyer here to see you. Says he needs to give you something.”
My heart dropped into my stomach because I knew exactly what it was. I was being served.
I’d been served for medical malpractice, but it was always frivolous, and just to be an ass, I countersued to protect my reputation—and always won. I hoped that was what this was now, another stupid lawsuit because someone knew how deep my pockets were.
I left my desk and walked into the lobby, eager to get that paperwork in my hands to make sure Catherine’s name was nowhere on it—that she wasn’t the one filing for divorce.
The suit looked at me. “Are you Dr.—”
I snatched the manila envelope out of his hand and ripped it open to get the paperwork inside.
I almost fell to my knees the way Catherine had when she’d learned of her father’s passing. My hands were always steady, but now they shook with unexpected tremors, the paperwork shaking in front of my eyes.