Chapter 3 - The Wife and the Other Woman|
At six in the morning, Ethan opened his eyes.
I was beside his hospital bed, pretending to read a medical report while watching every movement of his face. His head was bandaged, his right arm rested in a brace, and the monitors beside him measured the fragile rhythm of his recovery.
“Claire?”
His voice was barely audible.
I set the report down.
“I'm here.”
He tried to sit up. Pain tightened his expression.
“Don't move.”
“Where am I?”
“Northwestern. You were in a car accident.”
His eyes searched mine.
Then he remembered.
“Vanessa?”
The name landed between us like a slap.
I waited for him to look embarrassed, ashamed, or even frightened. Instead, he looked toward the door.
“Is she safe?”
I stared at him.
“That's your first question?”
“Claire—”
“I'm your wife, Ethan. I performed emergency surgery on you. I spent four hours keeping you alive while another woman stood outside calling you her husband.”
His eyes closed.
“I can explain.”
“You have five years to explain. Start with the last eight months.”
He swallowed painfully.
“Vanessa isn't what you think.”
“She's pregnant with your child.”
He said nothing.
I stood.
“Did you marry her?”
“No.”
“Did you promise to?”
His silence answered me.
I laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“You know what's remarkable? I have spent years treating people who were betrayed by the people they trusted most. I always thought the hardest part was the shock. It isn't. It's realizing how many ordinary moments were built on a lie.”
“Claire, I never stopped loving you.”
“Then why did you create a second life?”
He looked at me, and for the first time I saw something other than guilt in his expression.
Fear.
“Because someone was threatening you.”
I almost laughed again.
“Don't turn your betrayal into a sacrifice.”
“I'm not.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
He struggled to raise his head.
“Vanessa was supposed to be protected. I thought if I kept her close, I could find out who was using her to reach me.”
“You slept with her to protect her?”
His face twisted.
“I made a mistake.”
“No. You made choices.”
Before he could respond, the door opened.
Vanessa stood in the doorway, one hand over her belly.
“Ethan, I need to tell you something.”
He went pale.
“Not now.”
She ignored him and looked directly at me.
“I didn't come here to take your husband.”
“Then why are you here?”
She pulled a folded photograph from her purse.
It showed Ethan standing beside an older man outside a private clinic. The date printed on the back was eight months earlier.
May you like
Vanessa's voice trembled.
“Because the man who arranged our first meeting told me Ethan would be dead before our baby was born.”
