Chapter 0006: Lesson in Love and Guilt

My breath caught in my throat as I watched him stride to his car and drive off. I followed, keeping a safe distance, my hands clamped to the steering wheel so tightly they trembled.

He drove through town before pulling into the lot of a large mall. My stomach sank as I parked a few spaces away, watching him disappear inside. Questions clawed at my mind, each one darker than the last.

I sat there, trapped in my thoughts until frantic knocking jolted me from my spiral. My heart lurched as I turned to see Bella, one of my patients, her tear-streaked face pressed against my windshield.

“Help. Please. Please help me!” Her muffled cry cracked through the glass.

“I’m sorry. She’s drunk,” someone muttered, dragging her back.

I fumbled for the lock, torn between my rising panic and my oath to help her. But before I could move, the mall doors opened.

Noah.

He walked out casually, a bouquet of flowers in one hand, a box tucked under his arm. My chest squeezed so hard it hurt. Anxiety clawed at me—I was here to follow my husband, yet Bella needed me. My world split in two.

I froze. Watched. Waited. He placed the items in his car and drove off, leaving me trembling as I restarted my engine and trailed behind him.

Through the busy streets, I kept my eyes fixed on his taillights. My mind spun with torment. Flowers. A package. Who were they for? My husband, secretive, evasive, carrying romance in his hands, it burned like acid.

Then the light ahead turned yellow. He sped through. Red.

I slammed the brakes, tires screeching, horns blaring behind me. For a split second, fear drowned me. Give up. Let him go.

But no I couldn’t. I pressed the gas as soon as green flashed, weaving through traffic until relief washed over me. His car, still in sight.

We turned onto quieter streets, and recognition struck me like a blow. This road led to the hospital. My chest constricted. His mother.

He pulled into the hospital parking lot. I parked a few rows behind, my body still trembling with adrenaline. He stepped out, still clutching the flowers and the package, and walked toward the entrance.

Relief tangled with confusion inside me. Visiting his mother—something so ordinary, so kind. Yet why the secrecy? Why the lies about his time?

Inside, I followed at a cautious distance. My eyes caught the box now resting on the receptionist’s counter. Guilt stabbed deep. Here I was, suspecting betrayal, when perhaps… Perhaps he had only been a devoted son.

I pressed the button for the elevator, my hand trembling. Fourth floor.

At his mother’s door, I froze. His voice drifted out, soft, gentle. I pushed the knob slightly, peeking inside. There he was sitting beside her, holding her frail hand, speaking with warmth I hadn’t heard in weeks.

My throat tightened. I stepped back, emotions flooding through me.

“Mother,” I said softly as her gaze lifted, catching me. I masked the quiver in my voice.

“He didn’t tell me you were coming,” she whispered, her voice thin and weak.

“What brings you here?” Noah asked, releasing her hand.

It took me a heartbeat too long to answer. “I haven’t visited for a long time,” I lied, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“I know you’re very busy. I guess you had some free time,” she smiled faintly.

“How do you feel?” I asked, desperate to steady the air.

“It’s always the same.” Her words faltered, then darkened. “I wouldn’t be surprised even if I died tomorrow.”

“Gosh, don’t say that,” Noah interrupted quickly, grasping her hand again.

I let my eyes wander, desperate for control, until they landed on the flowers. “Did you buy these flowers?” I asked, lifting them.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“Why did you buy flowers? They’re such a waste of money,” his mother chuckled weakly.

He laughed softly.

“I’ll put them in a vase,” I murmured, gripping the bouquet tighter, mourning the trust I had so easily thrown away.

I excused myself, stepping out. The door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against the cold corridor wall. Tears streamed hot down my face. Relief. Guilt. Shame. My body trembled with the weight of it all. I had been so ready to condemn him, only to find devotion where I feared betrayal.

Then arms wrapped around me, warm, and familiar. His scent enveloped me, and my tears broke free.

“Emma. Thank you. My mom’s really happy that you’re here,” he whispered, gratitude thick in his tone.

“I haven’t been able to take care of her for a long time,” I choked out. “You should’ve asked me to come with you.”

“I know you’re busy. I didn’t want to pressure you,” he said gently, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’ve been coming here for a while now. She’s not doing well, so I come almost every day.”

I turned to him, my eyes searching his face, drowning in shame and worry.

He tilted his head, concern softening his features. “What’s wrong?”

My lips trembled before the words spilled out. “I doubted you for a second. Elena told me you leave work at 5 p.m.… but you told me you get off work at 7.”

His eyes widened, surprise flashing before hurt followed. “So what? Did you think I’d be doing something behind your back? No way. Emma, is that why you came here?” His voice was soft but wounded.

I leaned into him, my tears soaking his shirt. “I’m sorry. I must’ve lost my mind.”

“Emma,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“Pretend you didn’t hear anything. I feel so embarrassed,” I whispered, rubbing at my wet cheeks.

“Why would you be foolish enough to worry about something like that?” he said quietly, holding me tighter against him.

“I’m okay now. I’m really okay now.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded faintly. “You should go talk to your mother. I need to put the flower in a vase.”

I slipped away, carrying the bouquet. Downstairs, I forced a small smile at the receptionist. “Thank you for the vase,” I said, voice still shaky.

“Don’t mention it. Thank you for the cake,” she replied warmly, placing an elegant vase on the counter.

“Does she sleep well?” I asked quietly, taking the vase from her.

“She’s been having a hard time at night, so we started giving her more painkillers. She really missed her son. The last time he visited was New Year’s Day. He only called from time to time.”

The words froze me mid-breath.

New Year’s Day? Only called?

My grip on the vase tightened. My heart, which had just found relief, lurched violently back into suspicion.