Last time she got sick, she wouldn't tell me why, but I could guess it had everything to do with exhaustion.
To take care of Ella, I stayed in Rochester, converting a nearby suite hotel into a makeshift office. Like an obsessive, the moment I finished work, I'd drive straight back to the hospital. Iwasn't doing this just to salvage my crumbling marriage—being with Ella gave me peace.
I didn't have nightmares about her vanishing anymore.
Now, even though we slept in different places, at least I knew where she was. At least I could reach her in ten minutes.
I walked down the silent corridor and stopped at the small window outside the room.
Through that thin pane of glass, I saw Ella sitting beside the bed. The VIP room was more spacious than standard ones—better environment, brighter light. She wore a simple pale blue sweater, holding a book, silently memorizing those dense nursing terms. Eyes gently closed, pink lips moving soundlessly. Afternoon sunlight crowned her with a soft, sacred golden glow. The moment was so beautiful it didn't seem real. I couldn't bring myself to open the door, afraid of shattering this fleeting perfection.
"Excuse me, sir."
A man's voice cut in from behind without warning.
I turned around to face an overly young man. Joe Morrison. The man who'd kissed Ella in that car.
Our eyes met in midair. Those clear eyes flashed with undisguised hostility, even a territorial declaration, as he pushed straight past me and opened the door.
That precious scene I'd been treasuring, he destroyed it so easily.
I stared at his straight back, jealousy gnawing at my heart.
I followed him in almost instinctively.
"Joe, you're here." Ella looked up, her face blooming into a smile. A genuine smile, even carrying a hint of lightness.
But when her gaze shifted past Joe's shoulder to land on me, that smile froze.
Her hand loosened, the book slipping from her fingers and hitting the floor with a dull thud. She went rigid, shooting up from her seat.
What was she nervous about?
Because Joe and I appeared together?
"You okay, Ella?"
Joe walked to Maya's bedside, bent down to pick up her book, and handed it back. His movements flowed naturally. Like he'd rehearsed them a hundred times. Ella shook her head slightly, turning stiffly to the side. I realized she was extremely tense. Because of me?
"Her creatinine levels dropped significantly today, Ella. Your care log is incredibly professional." Joe pointed at the data on the chart, drawing Ella's attention.
I stood at the foot of the bed, my gaze locked on her face like radar. I noticed tiny beads of sweat on the tip of her nose, catching faint light.
Soon, I noticed her looking at me.
A quick glance, quick as a dragonfly skimming water. Before I could catch the emotion in it, she looked away. Her fingers tapped nervously at the edge of her notebook, betraying her anxiety.
What was she thinking?
Calculating when I'd leave.
The thought made my chest tighten. In that moment, I felt like an unwanted intruder.
Without me, they'd be more harmonious, wouldn't they?
Once that thought surfaced, it grew wildly in my mind. I watched their eyes meet, watched Ella scribble rapidly in her notebook. That sense of violated territory was driving me insane.
When Joe finally set down the chart and walked out, I followed.
