Chapter 2

Leslie's "right back" meant two hours later.

By the time he got back, I'd slept and woken again.

"Today was my fault. I promise I won't be that careless again."

I looked at the guilt in his eyes, listless.

"You don't need to promise anything. What you do is your business."

He frowned.

"Can you not be like this? When I said I wanted to help her, you agreed too. What's with the sarcasm now?"

Before, hearing something like this would only have made him think he'd hurt my feelings. He'd have teased me and coaxed me and apologized, over and over. He'd never been impatient with me like this.

I gave a self-mocking laugh.

"Nothing at all. I've been to the edge of death and back. Now I understand her."

His face darkened.

"You went through one car crash and you already feel like that. She's endured this kind of torment for years. Wanting someone to help her is completely normal."

"I know I've neglected you a lot lately, but I just don't want to be left with regrets. You should be able to understand that. Whatever else, you're the only one in my heart. My conscience is clear."

I said nothing, but my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a fist, until I couldn't breathe.

How laughable. His wife came out of a critical surgery, and it counted for less than one word about his ex not feeling well.

Seeing that I wasn't going to answer, Leslie sighed.

"There's something I have to handle at the company. Call me if you need anything. Get some rest."

I still didn't respond.

By evening, he sent a message saying he had to work late and couldn't come see me.

I didn't reply. Instead I scrolled onto a post from Lois, geotagged at a mall nearby.

【It feels so good to be chosen by you, without any doubt. Forgive me for greedily wanting to keep you all to myself.】

The attached clip showed a hand feeding her soup, and on that hand's finger was a ring, part of a matching pair with my wedding band.

The diamond threw off a glare so sharp it turned my stomach.

So I poured out the cold oatmeal his assistant had delivered half an hour earlier.

For the next few days, Leslie came to see me in the mornings and spent his afternoons and evenings with Lois.

On the day I was discharged, he came early to pick me up.

We'd just finished listening to the doctor's instructions and were about to leave when his phone rang.

It was Lois.

He hung up and it rang again. Three times over. Tired of it, I reached over and answered for him.

The girl's fragile voice came through.

"Les, I finished chemo today. Can you keep the promise now, to take me to the amusement park?"

Leslie glanced at me. His tone was cold.

"I have to take my wife home. It's not a good time."

There was a long silence on the other end, then a single "sorry" before the line went dead.

Leslie steered me into the elevator, distracted, explaining that it had only been an excuse to keep her calm through the chemo.

But his eyes kept drifting to his phone. He even forgot to press the button.

Once we were in the car, the hematology doctor called him.

"Lois just finished chemo. You're her family. How could you let her run around like this?"

Leslie's expression went tight.

"What?"

Before he could finish, another call came through.

He answered at once.

"Where did you go? Who told you to run off like that?"

Wind noise came through the line, laced with the sounds of people having fun.

"I wanted to come to the amusement park one last time. I'm fine, don't worry about me."

The call ended. Leslie wrenched the wheel and swung the car around. My forehead hit the window with a dull thud.

Only then did he look at me, slamming on the brakes.

"If she sees you she'll feel guilty again. Go home on your own first. I'll head back once I've taken her to the hospital."

Was he afraid she'd feel guilty, or afraid that the sight of me would sting her eyes?

Before I could move, he got out, came around, and pulled me from the car.

"Be good."

It struck me then. Back when Lois was threatening to end it all just to see him once, he'd only called the police and left his assistant to follow up.

Once, his contracts worth millions had mattered less to him than a scrape on my hand.

Now the man who'd promised to always put me first had finally met his exception.

The car sped off, and I stood in the flow of traffic, unable to find a single car that would stop for me.

I calmly wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and started walking the other way.

It's fine. From now on, I'll be my own safe harbor.