“I’m sorry, babe. I’m completely stuck dealing with the zoning board for the new commercial project,” he had said, looking genuinely apologetic. “Tell Val I’m proud of her, okay? And buy her some nice flowers on the way.”
I smiled, kissed his cheek, and left. I had no idea those words would burn like acid inside my chest only hours later.
The hospital smelled like sterile alcohol, reheated cafeteria coffee, and the faint, sweet scent of lilies from the gift shop. The maternity floor was a chaotic symphony of squeaking nurse shoes, rolling carts, and the excited chatter of new grandparents. I stopped at the nurses’ station, asked for Valerie’s room number, and walked slowly down the hallway.
I was adjusting my hair with my free hand, eager to walk in looking radiant and supportive. I wanted to hug my sister. I wanted to believe that, despite the emotional distance that had always lingered between us, this baby would finally bridge the gap.
Then, I heard Derek’s voice.
I froze. My expensive heels stopped dead on the linoleum floor. At first, my brain scrambled for a logical explanation. Maybe his meeting was canceled. Maybe he rushed over to surprise me. Maybe, for once, I mattered enough for him to drop everything and show up.
Then, I heard him laugh. It wasn’t his polite, public chuckle. It was a deep, relaxed, arrogant laugh.
“Claire doesn’t suspect a thing,” Derek’s voice drifted through the slightly ajar door of Room 312. “Poor thing. She still believes I’m swamped at the firm. As long as she keeps paying off the credit cards and the Bellevue apartment, it’s better if she stays completely oblivious.”
The floor seemed to drop out from beneath me. My breath hitched in my throat, trapped behind a sudden, suffocating wall of panic. I stepped closer, pressing my back against the cold wall beside the door frame. I didn’t go in. I didn’t breathe.
Then, my mother’s voice cut through the air. Cold. Pragmatic. Like she was discussing the weather.
