Chapter 1

After my husband broke our plans to visit both my parents' graves so he could be with his ex, I got into a car crash on the road, alone, on my way to the cemetery.

When they rushed me into surgery, the doctors used my phone to call him and let him know.

He picked up, went silent for two seconds, and when he spoke there was patience worn thin, holding back irritation.

"Abigail Hughes, I already told you, Lois is terminally ill, she doesn't have long. I only came to check on her, I'll be right back. Do you really have to pull something this extreme just because you're jealous?"

The nurse frowned and started to speak, and from his end came an unfamiliar voice.

"Family of Lois Graves, come sign. Are you her partner? Take care with the patient's emotional state, and make sure you cooperate with the treatment going forward."

He had always kept himself above reproach, yet he didn't explain that she was only an ex.

The scratch of the pen came down the line.

"Stop making a scene. Set a time tomorrow and we'll go pay our respects again. Mom and Dad wouldn't want to see you jealous of a dying woman either."

The call ended, and my eyes had gone painfully dry.

The nurse looked at me, at a loss.

"Family needs to sign..."

I lifted my right hand, trembling, blood running down my arm.

With every stroke, all I could see was Leslie Gilbert years ago at my bedside, crying, asking me why I hadn't told him I was sick.

"I'll sign it myself."

From now on, I would sign my name myself.

1.

When I came to, a girl's faint sobbing reached my ears.

A warm hand was gripping mine tight.

I looked up and met Leslie's reddened eyes.

"You're awake. I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

I slipped my hand free, and the small motion cut off his remorse.

He stiffened.

Seeing it, Lois came forward slowly.

"Abigail, please don't blame Les. I really didn't mean to intrude on the two of you. It's just that today the pain was more than I could stand, and then I heard the doctor say there was a risk, and I couldn't stop myself from calling him. I only wanted to see him one last time."

Ever since Lois was diagnosed with blood cancer, things like this had happened again and again.

Every occasion, big or small, the moment we stepped out the door we'd get a call from her saying she felt unwell. Every holiday, her attending doctor could always time it so that just as I finished laying out a full table of food, the phone would ring to say she was critical and needed to see Leslie one last time.

Every time was the last time.

And every time, there was always a next.

I couldn't help laughing.

Just as I was about to speak, Leslie stood and steadied her swaying body.

"She has no one she knows here. As her friend, it's only right I look out for her a little. Her health is poor, and to put it plainly, from here on every day she has is one less. Don't hold it against her. She didn't do it on purpose, she just didn't want any regrets."

"She feels guilty. She's been waiting here a long time, just to explain to you when you woke up."

Leslie found her excuses with practiced ease.

The truth was, at the start he hadn't believed her either. Call after call, he'd thrown harsh words back at her, told her she deserved it, handed back to her every bit of what he'd felt after being betrayed and abandoned.

Until later, when we were trying for a baby, and after a checkup at the hospital we saw Lois, thin to the bone, sitting in a wheelchair.

Leslie went several nights without sleeping.

Finally, one afternoon, he confessed to me that he wanted to help her.

Back then he was open about it, and there was nothing but pity in the way he looked at her.

Not like now, when the way he looked at her was full of a worry that wouldn't dissolve.

"She's awake now. You should hurry back and get some rest."

Lois nodded, eyes red.

But the moment she turned, she stumbled, lost her footing, and fell into his arms, coughing.

Leslie caught her on instinct, then glanced back at me.

There was none of the old displeasure or jealousy in my eyes. I only turned my head and looked out the window at the view.

He froze for a moment, his voice low and hoarse.

"It isn't easy for her on her own like this. I'll take her back first and come right back."

I didn't answer. I just watched, in the reflection on the window glass, his hand gripping hers, trembling.

It was the careful, afraid-to-lose gesture, exactly the way he'd once shielded me.

Only now he didn't ask me a single word about what had happened, whether it still hurt, whether I was in pain.

There was nothing left but his defending of Lois, his standing up for her.

I let out a scornful laugh and dialed my lawyer.

"Draw up divorce papers for me. As fast as you can."