Chapter 5

Evelyn turned and fled in tears, as though she couldn't bear to watch another second.

Alarm flashed across Nathaniel's face. He immediately released Rosalie.

"Wait here."

Then he hurried after Evelyn without a second thought.

Rosalie slid down the wall and crumpled to the floor.

What a joke.

All Evelyn had done was catch them together, and Nathaniel had rushed after her in a panic. Rosalie had never been more painfully aware of where she stood with him.

She struggled to her feet, straightened her rumpled dress, and stumbled away from the corner, barely aware of where she was going. The thought of what had happened there made her sick.

She'd barely stepped out the dance hall's back door when someone shouted from above.

"Someone jumped!"

Rosalie looked up instinctively. A figure was plunging from an upper floor, straight toward her.

Before she could move, the person slammed into her with a sickening thud. Pain shot through her body, and something warm and sticky splattered across her face and clothes.

As her vision began to fade, Rosalie caught one last glimpse of the person who had fallen on her.

It was Evelyn, the same woman who'd run off in tears just moments earlier.

…

When Rosalie came to again, the sharp smell of antiseptic filled her nose. She was barely conscious, but she could tell she was being wheeled toward an operating room.

Nearby, a nurse was speaking urgently. "Both women are in critical condition! Bleeding in the brain, multiple fractures... And we've just had a flood of patients from a major pileup.

"We're running low on blood, and there's only one operating room available. Whoever has to wait might not survive! General Farrell, which one do we operate on first?"

Nathaniel's voice was strained with desperation. "Save them both! Can't you send one of them to another hospital?"

"No. Neither of them is stable enough to be moved. You have to choose."

A suffocating silence followed.

Rosalie struggled to open her eyes. Nathaniel stood at the operating room doors, his jaw clenched. She'd never seen him look so torn, or in so much anguish.

At last, he spoke, each word seeming to take everything he had.

"Save Evelyn first."

Rosalie had known what he'd say. But hearing him choose Evelyn over her still hurt more than she could bear.

A faint, bitter smile touched her lips beneath the oxygen mask.

Of course he'd chosen Evelyn.

Then everything went black again.

When Rosalie finally woke, she had no idea how much time had passed. To her surprise, Nathaniel was sitting at her bedside.

The moment he saw she was awake, he leaned closer. "You're awake. How are you feeling? Where does it hurt?"

Rosalie turned her face away before he could touch her.

"I heard you outside the operating room. You knew I might die, and you chose Evelyn anyway. So why bother pretending you care now?"

Nathaniel went still. He clearly hadn't realized she'd heard him.

He was silent for so long that Rosalie began to wonder if he'd answer at all.

"Evelyn used to work as a coordinator for a troupe that entertained the troops. Then she got seriously ill, and she's never fully recovered.

"She was already so frail that she wouldn't have survived without immediate surgery. That's why I told them to operate on her first."

Nathaniel paused, then looked at Rosalie again. "I immediately arranged for a surgical team from another hospital to come here. They managed to get you into surgery in time, too. Rosie, I didn't abandon you."

Rosalie listened without a word, her expression unreadable. Inside, she felt cold and hollow.

She scoffed. "Nathaniel, if Evelyn was just a former colleague you were looking after because she was sick, why did she fall apart when she saw us together? Why would she go so far as to jump off a building?"

Nathaniel had no answer.

She watched him swallow. He remained silent for a long moment before finally speaking.

"Evelyn was once in love with someone who loved her, too. But they couldn't be together. She's kept her feelings bottled up ever since, and she hasn't been doing well.

"Maybe seeing us together at the dance hall was more than she could take. Maybe that's why she jumped."

Rosalie studied him in silence, taking in the sharp line of his jaw and the calm, unreadable look in his eyes. She'd never imagined he could lie so convincingly.

She remembered a conversation they'd had shortly after their wedding.

She'd been curled up in his arms, absently playing with a button on his uniform.

Half teasing, half serious, she'd said, "Nathaniel, you know what I hate more than anything? Being lied to. My father lied to my mother over and over, and in the end, those lies cost her life.

"If you ever lie to me, I'll walk away and never look back."

He'd kissed the top of her head and murmured, "I'll never lie to you."

And now, all he did was lie.

Rosalie had never believed she needed romantic love to be happy. It was nice to have, but she could live without it.

If a relationship worked out, she'd stay. If it didn't, she'd find someone else. And if that didn't work out either, she could still live a happy, fulfilling life on her own.

The moment she'd learned Nathaniel had lied to her, she'd known their marriage was over.