Chapter 2

Coming out of the surgical room, I bled far more than the others.

They kept me in the recovery area under observation until almost evening before they let me go home.

Severe anemia on top of the heavy blood loss after the procedure. By the time I reached my door, I was so drained I could barely stay upright.

I braced myself against the door frame and was about to call for Duane.

Instead, the first thing I heard was a thin, faintly coaxing woman's voice.

"Dr. Stephens, when are we eating?"

My voice stuck in my throat.

After a moment I forced myself to push the door open.

Inside, Alma was wearing my slippers, lounging sideways on the couch.

The moment she saw me come in, her ease vanished and she scrambled to her feet.

"Serena, don't misunderstand. Josie woke up today and wouldn't stop crying, she didn't want to stay at the hospital, and Duane couldn't bear it, so he brought us here. Don't worry, we won't touch anything of yours."

Duane came out of the kitchen carrying a steaming dish.

"Why are you home so late today?"

His gaze passed over me, but he noticed nothing wrong.

I said nothing and kept walking toward the bedroom.

Alma hurried over and caught my arm. "Serena, I'll take Josie and leave right now, please don't fight with Duane. He did two surgeries today and he's been busy with Josie the whole time, he's really exhausted."

As she spoke, she went to get her suitcase.

She'd taken barely two steps when she swayed, unsteady on her feet.

Duane caught her at once. "Where do you think you're going this late?"

Alma dropped her eyes, her voice going very low.

"I don't want to upset Serena."

Duane looked at me, something helpless in his eyes.

"Serena, Josie's afraid of the hospital, but she can't be away from a doctor right now. Having them stay here makes it easier for me to look after her anytime."

"Once she's doing better, Alma will take her home."

"How long will they stay?" I asked it flatly, expecting nothing anymore.

He thought about it, then told me, "Probably two or three months."

Duane and I were supposed to get married next month.

Which meant that in his mind, even after the wedding, I was supposed to hand half the marriage home over to this mother and daughter.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth and met his eyes.

"Stealing the blood I stored for seven years wasn't enough. Now you're moving the thief into my home to stay."

"Duane, do you have any respect for people at all?"

His tone turned cold at once.

"Serena, that's an ugly thing to say."

"They're only staying a while. There's no need to be this aggressive."

Aggressive.

I looked away from him, my chest so tight I could barely breathe.

Duane thought I'd given in, and started coaching me.

"When Josie comes out in a bit, keep your expression gentle. Don't scare her."

I didn't answer. I turned and went into the bedroom.

Through the door came Alma's soft crying.

"Duane, does Serena really hate me?"

"I know I shouldn't be intruding on the two of you, but raising Josie alone, I'm honestly afraid I won't be able to hold on."

Duane's voice went very soft.

"She's just under a lot of stress from the pregnancy. Don't take it to heart."

I leaned against the back of the door, my fingertips tightening bit by bit.

I didn't go out for dinner. I lay in bed and slept in a heavy daze for a long time.

When I woke, I had a high fever.

I went out to find medicine, and Alma had just finished a shower and was drying her hair.

She had on my satin robe.

The couple's sleepwear I'd bought, saved for after Duane and I were married.

Duane seemed to catch my mood. He came over and lowered his voice to explain.

"It's the only new robe in the house, so I had to give it to Alma. Don't read into it."

I pulled my eyes away, a weariness I couldn't put into words settling over me.

It wasn't until I opened the medicine box that he noticed something was off with me.

He reached out and felt my forehead, his brows drawing together.

"How did you end up with a fever?"

He brought over hot water and had me take the medicine.

Then he went to the kitchen to make congee, and brought a cold towel to press against my head.

"There now, once the fever comes down you'll feel better."

He took care of me so naturally.

Soothed me so naturally.

As if none of today's conflict had ever happened.

As if there were nothing wrong with us at all.

But the weak little voice that came from the doorway shattered that surface in an instant.

"Daddy, what are you doing?"