My Husband Never Played Favorites Until Our Divorce

Richard sat beside Daisy's hospital bed, peeling an apple for her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I stood in the doorway like an outsider.

Daisy's parents, Gary and Carol Lawson, watched him dote on her, looking both grateful and delighted.

"Thank you so much, Richard. You're so busy, but you still make time to be here with Daisy every day. You take better care of her than we do."

Daisy snuggled up against his shoulder. "You booked my parents' hotel and even arranged my flight home. I can't believe you remembered all that.

"And with how strict the hospital's rules are, you still got me this suite."

Richard smiled. "Of course I remembered. I'd never forget anything to do with you."

I froze, my hand still on the doorframe.

Daisy's parents laughed and began teasing them. "You two have been like this since you were kids. Richard, whenever Daisy so much as had a headache or a fever, you'd worry yourself sick. You've always spoiled her rotten."

The gentle smile on Richard's face suddenly took me back to the past.

Right after we got married, I came down with a 102-degree fever. To get me to eat, Richard drove across town in the middle of the night to pick up my favorite butternut squash soup.

When he got back, one side of him was soaked from the rain, but the soup he'd tucked inside his jacket was still hot.

Every time I coughed, he was right there beside me. Worried the IV fluid was too cold, he even held the tubing in his hands to warm it. He stayed up with me all night.

He still peeled the apple with practiced ease, and his smile was as gentle as ever.

The only difference was that I wasn't the one he was spoiling anymore.

Daisy pouted at him, while Richard smiled and held a slice of apple to her lips.

I thought back to the day my dad had coughed so violently he could barely breathe. I looked at Richard. "So you do know how to plan ahead and take a patient's circumstances into account?"

Richard's smile froze. You could practically feel the room go cold.

Daisy and her parents all turned to look at me, confused.

After a long pause, Daisy gave a little laugh, trying to smooth things over. "Angela, don't get the wrong idea. Richard and I grew up together. I'm practically his little sister. We're family.

"When I left to do my master's abroad, everyone else said goodbye at the airport. Richard actually took time off work to come with me. He stayed until I was settled in before flying home.

"Same thing when I came back this time. My blood sugar was just a little low, and I was going to go straight home, but Richard went out of his way to arrange a complete medical workup for me.

"Richard's just used to taking care of me. He's been that way since we were little. Don't read too much into it."

Daisy handed Richard a piece of apple with an innocent smile.

Richard took it and ate it.

I clutched the folder of medical records so tightly my knuckles turned white.

I wanted to ask him one thing. If Daisy was family, then what did that make my father?

But my throat closed up. The memories came flooding back like razor blades, and every one of them hurt to touch.

That day, my father was coughing up blood and needed to be transferred to the ICU immediately.

I begged Richard to help find him a bed, and he promised to take care of it first thing the next morning.

By the next morning, my dad had spent the entire night struggling to breathe in a regular ward. Richard hung up the phone with a frown. "There are no ICU beds available right now. What do you expect me to do? Have him wait in observation. They'll let us know when one opens up."

My parents didn't want to put Richard in a difficult position, so they kept telling me not to argue with him.

But there wasn't even a bed available in observation. My father was in his 60s, yet he spent the night hunched over on a bench in the hallway, clutching his chest. He didn't call because he didn't want to worry me, and he was too afraid of causing trouble to ask the nurses again.

When a nurse told him the wait for a bed could be three days, he simply endured it, spending all three days in the hospital hallway.

I didn't find out what had happened until I saw the emergency care charges on his hospital bill. By then, he'd developed a severe infection that led to heart failure. He'd nearly died.

I remembered confronting Richard. Why had he left my dad stranded in the ER hallway?

He gave me an apologetic look. "I didn't know there weren't any beds that day. Why didn't he call me?"

It was the middle of the night. Richard looked up from a stack of medical papers, dark circles under his eyes. Remembering what my parents had told me before they left, I swallowed my hurt and let it go.

What I didn't know was that all that research had been for Daisy.

He had spent three days going over her medical records from overseas.

I looked down as tears blurred my vision.

The thermos suddenly seemed to grow heavier in my hand.

My fingers went slack, and it hit the floor with a heavy thud.

The lid flew off, sending scalding cream of mushroom soup all over my pants and Richard's custom-made leather shoes.