Chapter 1

Fresh out of surgery, I got a one-line brush-off from Jim Gilbert, saying he had a meeting and couldn't come.

So I had no choice but to grit my teeth through the pain and take a cab home.

The door opened and he was standing in the entryway, eyes flicking toward the bedroom, voice dropped low.

"Shirley Matthews's dog got sick last night. She spent the whole night at the animal hospital, didn't sleep a wink. I was worried something would happen to her, so I brought her over to rest for a bit."

"I was in the middle of straightening up the guest room when she just crashed on our bed and fell asleep. It took her forever to settle down. I really couldn't bring myself to wake her."

Then he pulled a blanket out of the closet and pushed it into my hands.

"The guest room's just been cleaned up. You've just had surgery, so you should rest too. Sorry to put you out."

I looked down at the blanket.

"I just got out of the hospital."

"I know. It was just a minor procedure, wasn't it?"

I didn't take the blanket. I just looked at him, cold.

"Shirley loses one night of sleep and she gets to sleep in my bed. I just came out of surgery, and you're putting me in the guest room?"

He stepped in front of me.

"What's with you? I say one thing and you blow it into a federal case."

I ignored him.

I just remembered that the last time this childhood sweetheart of his, the girl he'd grown up with, was hospitalized, he stayed by her side for eleven days.

Today I'd just gotten out of the hospital, and he wouldn't even come pick me up.

Two people, both unwell, and the treatment couldn't be more different.

...

I picked up my bag and headed for the guest room. I'd barely taken two steps when Jim's hand shot out to stop me again.

"Shh, keep it down, don't wake her."

I stared at his hand.

The anesthesia had worn off, and my abdomen was throbbing in waves.

He was afraid of waking Shirley.

I was in so much pain that cold sweat was breaking out on my forehead, and he couldn't even be bothered to ask if I was okay.

"Let go."

"Olivia Donaldson, can you not have a little sense? Lower your voice."

Jim frowned and glanced at the door of the master bedroom.

"She was terrified last night, kept having nightmares. Just cut her some slack, all right?"

The corner of my mouth twitched.

"What terrified her?"

"Shirley's too soft-hearted. She thought the dog was going to die, and she was so upset she cried all night."

"Don't look so grim. Shirley's sensitive, and if she sees your face she'll start reading into things."

Really, it was almost funny.

I'd just come off the operating table, and the doctor had told me over and over to stay in bed for the first three days.

But Shirley had gotten a fright, and my grim face might scare her.

Jim pushed open the guest room door, and inside it was cold enough to make me shiver.

"Why is the heating turned off?"

"Shirley finds it stuffy. The temperature's too high and she gets uncomfortable."

"The doctor said I can't catch a chill after surgery."

"There are blankets in the closet, put on a couple extra layers. You've always had a strong constitution. Don't start acting delicate like other people."

I stood in the doorway, my fingers slowly going cold.

Three years of marriage.

For the first time, I learned that Jim did, in fact, remember that a woman might be afraid of stuffiness, of noise, of nightmares.

It was just that this kind of care had never once been for me.

I bent over to make the bed, and pain wrenched through my abdomen.

It came so suddenly that I grabbed the edge of the bed, and my forehead struck the corner of the cabinet hard.

A small patch of red quickly bloomed on the inside of my pants.

Jim heard the commotion and came in, his gaze dropping to the carpet, his face darkening at once.

"How did you make such a mess?"

Before I could get a word out, he bent down to look at the carpet.

"That cashmere rug is one Shirley just picked out last week. She loves it. Don't get it dirty."

He turned, pulled a few tissues, and handed them to me.

"Go wipe it up. Don't leave a stain and upset her."

I looked at the tissues in his hand. He wanted me to wipe the floor with them.

The pain in my abdomen eased a little, probably because my heart hurt more, and there was no room left to feel anything else.

"Jim, can't you see I'm still bleeding?"

"Then go take care of it in the bathroom. What are you standing here for?"

He lowered his voice, thoroughly irritated.

"Do you have to turn the whole house upside down until everyone's fretting over you before you're satisfied?"

Holding those few tissues, I went into the bathroom.

The person in the mirror had bloodless lips, hair stuck to her face with cold sweat.

I stared at her for a long moment, then turned on the tap.

Outside came the sound of the master bedroom door opening.

Shirley walked out wrapped in Jim's robe, barefoot, rubbing her eyes and calling to him.

"Jim... my throat's so dry, I want some water."

Jim went to her at once, a hand on her shoulder.

"Why did you come out barefoot? The floor's freezing. If you want water, just call me, that's all it takes."

Shirley saw me and froze for a second.

"Olivia, you're back... I'm sorry, I was sleeping so heavily just now, I didn't hear a thing."

She looked down and saw the blood on my pants, went a shade paler, and shrank into Jim's arms.

"Jim... why is there blood, I'm so scared..."

Jim's face turned even darker.

"Olivia, what are you standing around for? Go change your clothes, quit standing here scaring her!"

Shirley coaxed him softly.

"Jim, don't blame Olivia. She just had surgery... she must be feeling awful too."

Her words sounded kind enough, but her hand gripped a fistful of Jim's shirt.

Jim patted her back.

"Okay, I won't blame her. Sit down first, I'll make you something warm for your stomach."

When I came out of the bathroom, he was in the kitchen boiling a warm ginger drink.

I walked over and turned the flame down, and a thread of hope stirred in a heart frozen stiff.

"Is this... made specially for me?"

Jim lifted his eyes to me.

"Shirley's stomach is a little off. This bowl goes to her first."

"But I just had surgery. I'm still bleeding."

"She got such a fright last night, she's weak, she has to have something warm first to settle down."

He picked up the pot and poured it into a cup.

Watching that steaming cup of ginger drink get set down in front of Shirley, I suddenly didn't even have the strength to argue.

Shirley cupped the cup and looked at me with red eyes.

"Olivia... maybe you should have this one after all?"

Jim pressed her hand down, indulgence all over his face.

"Don't be silly. She just had surgery, the doctor told her to watch what she eats, she can't have anything sweet. You're weak, so be good and finish it."

Listening to that gentle, coaxing murmur of his, my fingers went stiff.

I thought of the day we registered our marriage, when Jim held my hand and said he would never let anyone bully me.

It had only been three years.

And of all the people bullying me, the one leading the charge was him.