Romances de starfire20230

The Hospital Adrian and Sophia outside New York Memorial Hospital. His hand on her back. Her face tilted up toward his, expression soft and intimate. The timestamp showed today. Less than two hours ago.I stared at the photograph for a long time. Then I looked up the hospital's address. And I knew exactly where I was going tomorrow.I told myself I was going to the hospital for a routine appointment. The lie lasted twenty seconds.I parked in the visitor lot at New York Memorial and sat in my car with my hands gripping the steering wheel. The maternity wing entrance was visible from where I sat. I told myself I could leave. I could drive away and pretend I'd never seen that photograph. I could go back to not knowing.But I'd already spent five years not knowing.I got out of the car and walked toward the entrance.The maternity wing was aggressively cheerful. Soft blues and greens. Photographs of happy families on the walls. A receptionist smiled at me as I passed, and I felt like a

A place I Don't Belong The words blurred as I stared at them. I read them three times, four times, trying to understand what I was supposed to feel.Five years.I'd spent five years convincing myself that this marriage was enough. That unrequited love was better than no love at all. That someday, somehow, Adrian might wake up and realize I mattered.Now, watching the space where that car had vanished, I understood the truth. I wasn't Adrian Harrison's wife. I was just someone he'd married for business reasons, and now there was someone else.Someone pregnant. Someone he touched like she was precious. Someone who wasn't me.I didn't sleep that night.I sat in the dark of the master bedroom, fully dressed, waiting for the sound of Adrian's car in the driveway. Midnight came and went. Then one o'clock. The digital clock on the nightstand glowed like a countdown to something I wasn't ready to face.By 2 AM, I stopped pretending he was coming home.Instead, I moved to the study and pulled

The Woman on the PhoneAdrian's fingers moved across the screen, and he brought the phone to his ear."Hi," he said, stepping into his study. "Yes, I can talk."The door closed behind him.I stood in the marble hallway, my bandaged hand throbbing in rhythm with my heartbeat, and wondered who Sophia Bennett was.And why Adrian sounded different when he answered her call. He sounded warmer somehow, less guarded.More like himself.---I woke up at 4:47 AM and couldn't fall back asleep.The other side of the bed was still empty. Adrian hadn't come to bed, which meant he'd either slept in his study or never made it home at all. I told myself it didn't matter. That I didn't care about the phone call with Sophia Bennett, about the warmth in his voice that I'd never heard directed at me.I told myself a lot of things that morning.By 6 AM, I was in the study with my laptop open, searching for Sophia Bennett like some kind of obsessed woman who had nothing better to do.And I found her immedi

Things Left Unsaid Margaret is Adrian's grandmother, seventy-three years old, intimidating, and the only member of his family who'd ever treated me like I was a real person instead of a temporary fixture.Tomorrow. Dinner. Adrian had already agreed, which meant he'd accepted without telling me, which meant it was important.Margaret Harrison's private residence was the kind of place that made you understand exactly how much generational wealth could accumulate. Crystal chandeliers cast soft light across rooms filled with art that probably cost more than most people's houses. And Margaret herself sat at the head of the dinner table like she owned not just the room, but time itself."Evelyn, darling, you look absolutely stunning tonight," Margaret said, reaching over to squeeze my hand. Her skin was paper-thin, but her grip was strong. "That dress is perfect on you."I'd worn a simple black gown, nothing flashy. Nothing that would draw attention. Margaret made it sound like I'd single-

THE EMPTY SIDE OF THE BEDI woke before dawn.The mattress beside me was cold. Cold in a way that meant no one had slept there at all.I lay still for a moment, listening to the Harrison Estate settle around me. The bedroom was the size of most people's apartments. Crystal chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan. And absolutely nothing that said Adrian and I belonged here together. No photos of us on the walls. No wedding picture on the nightstand. Nothing that proved we were anything more than two people sharing square footage.I'd stopped asking him to stay in bed a long time ago.The clock on the nightstand read 5:47 AM. Adrian would already be at the office. He always was. Some men had morning coffee. Adrian had Harrison Group spreadsheets.I pulled myself up and reached for the silk robe draped across the velvet chair. The fabric was expensive. Everything in this room was expensive except the feeling that lived here.By six o'clock, I was downstairs in the kit