Chapter 2

The hospital room went dead silent.

Richard froze for a second. Then he hurried over, his voice gentler now. "Did you get burned?"

He glanced at the soup on my pant leg and frowned.

Before I could say a word, Daisy drew in a sharp little breath. From the bed, she bit her lip and spoke in a tiny voice. "Angela... please don't be mad. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have asked Richard to stay with me... I know you're hurting. If you need to take it out on someone, take it out on me. Just please don't fight with Richard..."

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she forced a smile and turned to Richard.

"Richard, I'm sure she didn't mean it... It's all my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to stay, especially now..."

Anger flared inside me. I let out a bitter laugh. "At least you know it's your fault."

His face darkened. "Daisy needs rest right now. Can you not make a scene?"

"I'm making a scene?"

Daisy suddenly broke into a violent coughing fit, clinging to Richard's sleeve. When she finally managed to speak, her voice was barely a whisper. "Richard... don't worry about me... I'm fine, really..."

Richard immediately steadied her. When he turned back to me, his eyes were full of disappointment.

"Enough. She's this sick, and she's still worried about you. But you? All you can do is make a scene."

I looked into the eyes that had once been so full of tenderness. Now, all I saw was coldness and impatience. Suddenly, none of this felt worth it anymore.

I tossed the broken pieces of the thermos into the trash, turned around, and walked out.

Behind me, Daisy choked out, "Richard, this is all my fault. I hate seeing you two fight because of me."

Then Richard said quietly, "This has nothing to do with you. That's just how she is."

Daisy smiled and held a piece of apple up to his mouth.

"Richard, here. Have some."

Richard ate it with a smile. Moments later, they were laughing and chatting again as if nothing had happened.

I shut the door behind me and opened our family group chat. Mom had just sent a voice message. "Richard works so hard doing all those surgeries. Your dad asked around and got hold of some coffee beans for him. They're already in the mail. Tell him to give them a try."

Below the voice message were two awkward little smiley faces, a clumsy attempt to stay on Richard's good side.

The tears came before I could stop them. I sniffled.

"You don't need to do that, Mom. I'm coming home tomorrow. I've been craving your tomato-and-burrata salad."

That night, I called a college friend who was a lawyer and asked about drawing up divorce papers.

I had just hung up when I heard laughter and chatter coming from the private lounge next door.

Richard had arranged for the lounge to be set aside just for me whenever I came in for prenatal checkups.

I remembered how excited he'd been that day, dragging me along to see Dr. Martin Shaw, the hospital's chief medical officer. He'd looked so pleased with himself when he said it. "My wife's pregnant. She needs a quiet place to rest."

Dr. Shaw teased him for making a big deal out of nothing, and Richard shot right back, "When it comes to my wife, nothing is a small thing."

As soon as the request was approved, Richard furnished the lounge himself, bringing in a comfortable couch, a small table, my favorite flowers, and even the books I liked to read.

"You can rest here whenever you come in for a checkup. If I get stuck in a meeting, at least you'll have somewhere comfortable to wait."

Back then, I was all he could see. He would have laid the whole world at my feet if he could.

But ever since Daisy came back from overseas, everything had changed.

The door was open a crack, and I could hear Daisy laughing inside.

I pushed the door open.

Several members of Daisy's extended family were inside. Her cousin, Megan Porter, ran her hand over the wool blanket draped across the couch, clearly impressed.

"This lounge is gorgeous. Richard really does think of everything when it comes to Daisy. He even gave us a place this nice to relax!"

Everything, from the couch cushions to the tea set, had been swapped out for the very best.

I took a deep breath. My eyes were so dry they ached.

Megan pulled open the cabinet beside her and found a plain folding hospital cot inside.

"Richard really thinks of everything for Daisy. How many caregivers is he planning to hire? He's even got a folding cot ready."

I gave a bitter little smile. That cot wasn't for any caregiver. It was for my dad.

Not that Richard had gotten it ready for him. When my dad came in for treatment and wanted to save money on a place to stay, Richard had just pointed him to it without a second thought.

The first time my dad came to the hospital to visit Richard, he arrived drenched in sweat.

He'd barely lowered himself onto the leather couch to catch his breath when Richard stopped him. "Don't sit there."

My dad stopped dead, stuck halfway between sitting and standing, an awkward smile frozen on his face.

Flustered, he quickly stood back up and grabbed my arm before I could blow up.

Richard's tone softened. "The couch was just disinfected after a patient with a skin condition used it. Better not risk catching anything. Why don't you rest on the folding cot instead?"

I always told myself he just wasn't good at showing it. Deep down, he cared about this family.

After that, every time my parents came, they either brought their own folding chairs or just stood.

Just then, Richard walked in and casually shut the cabinet door.

"Daisy's relatives came all this way. Of course we should look after them."

I wiped my eyes. So he did know how to make guests feel welcome.

Smiling, Megan shot Richard a teasing look and slipped into a brand-new pair of slippers.

"If only Richard were part of our family. Daisy's such a sweetheart, and those two are a match made in heaven."

Megan grabbed a piece of cloth from the table, used it to wipe her shoes, then tossed it onto the floor.

Richard opened his mouth like he was going to stop her, but in the end he didn't say a thing.

My eyes went wide. Awkward with pregnancy, I lunged forward and snatched the cloth off the floor.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Everyone in the room fell silent. I clutched the cloth to my chest. "This is my lounge. Who said you could come in here? Who gave you permission to touch my things?"

I stared at the black shoe prints ground into the fabric, my heart twisting painfully in my chest.

It was a baby outfit my mom had knitted for my unborn child, stitch by stitch, with her reading glasses on.

She'd wrapped it so carefully before mailing it to me, telling me to save it for when the baby was born.

I'd treasured it, keeping it tucked safely inside the lounge cabinet.

But now it had been used to wipe somebody's shoes.

Daisy stepped in front of her cousin, looking hurt. "We didn't know. Did you really have to yell at her over it? You've been upset with us since the moment you walked in. Fine. We won't use the lounge."

She made a show of heading for the door.

"Richard, we'll just wait in the hallway. At least then nobody has to glare at us."

Just as I expected, Richard caught her by the wrist.

Richard's face hardened. "Use it. Make yourselves at home."