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I wanted her to tear them up.
Toss them in the wind.
Insist that the renumeration suit I got in the mail—the one demanding a payout after our divorce—was fake.
Or a misunderstanding.
Something.
Instead, she got angry with me for calling her out. For not going along with her games.
What she doesn’t know is I would have played the fool for as long as possible. Everything inside me hoped that we could stay together. I didn’t even care if it was all a lie.
My heart pangs.
I hate myself for thinking that.
Hate myself for falling in love with my wife.
I take in a deep breath and try not to think about Elizabeth. What’s important right now is Steph. Since her surgery, I moved into her private suite at the hospital. I take care of her. Make sure she’s eating. Make sure I get the latest updates from her doctors—who all assure me that she’s doing just fine.
She can’t leave the hospital yet.
They still need to monitor her.
Run tests.
Keep an eye out for any anomalies.
The doctor said we could be here for three weeks.
We’re five days in now.
Still got a ways to go.
The hospital doors open and my mom lumbers in. Her entrance stirs me from my thoughts. I sit straight up, scowling at the bowl of soup she has in her hands.
“I hope that’s for Steph,” I say.
“Brogan, you need to eat something.” She pushes my laptop off the table and sets the tray in front of me. Steam rises into the air. It smells great, but it’s not appealing. Lately, food’s been tasting like paper.
“I made this for you,” she says, pointing to the soup. “Eat it.”
“I’m not hungry.”
She sighs. “Brogan—”
“Lana took Steph to the library. Some celebrity athlete is here to take pictures with the kids. You know how that goes.”
“Look how thin your face got. Why haven’t you been eating?”
“I told her not to go.” I scowl, remembering my argument with Lana just before Steph insisted on being wheeled to where the other kids were. “Steph’s not some toy to prop up this guy’s popularity.”
“You haven’t been sleeping either,” Mom mumbles worriedly. “Brogan, what’s going on?”
Scrambling to my feet, I edge past the desk. “I should go and get her. Take her out of there.”
“Brogan!” Mom stops me.
