he started, clenching his fists.
“Yes, we are.” She opened the door, feeling the cool metal of the handle under her fingers. “This conversation ended 15 years ago, the first time you decided you could lie to me.”
Six months later, Eleanor stood at the window of her new office. The spring sun streamed through the blinds, painting stripes of light on the polished desk. Outside, the hospital grounds were bustling: orderlies pushed gurneys, nurses hurried on their rounds, and in the distance, a siren wailed. Head of the Cardiology Department. New title, new responsibilities, new life. The crisp white coat with her embroidered initials, “E.H.,” had already become part of her new identity.
The company reorganization was also well underway. Dave had proven to be a reliable partner; his sharp mind and business acumen helped recover nearly everything Andrew had siphoned off. As for Andrew, he wasn’t in jail. After much thought, Eleanor had decided not to press charges. The return of the assets and his complete removal from the business were compensation enough. “Do no harm,” even to the one who had harmed you.
“Dr. Hayes, you have a visitor,” the nurse’s voice crackled over the intercom.
The door opened with a soft squeak. Carol Peterson stood in the doorway, elegant as ever, holding a box of chocolates and a small bouquet of wildflowers.
“Just thought I’d check in,” she said, sitting in the visitor’s chair. The leather creaked under her weight. “How are you?”
“Surviving,” Eleanor smiled, feeling a warmth from the older woman’s presence. “And I mean that literally. I’m actually surviving.”
Carol nodded with understanding.
“I heard Andrew moved to another state,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “With that Victoria woman. They say she’s pregnant.”
Eleanor felt a sharp, unexpected pang deep inside. Not of jealousy, but of grief for what might have been. The picture she and Andrew had painted for years—their child, their family—was now being realized with another woman.
“I…” she faltered, searching for the right words.
Carol covered her hand with her own.
“You don’t have to explain. I understand.”
Eleanor took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of the hospital, her former mother-in-law’s perfume, and the fresh flowers on her desk.
“I’m happy for them,” she finally said, and was surprised to find it wasn’t entirely a lie. “Everyone deserves a chance.”
“Well, I’m not so sure,” Carol sniffed, pursing her lips. “He’s my only son, but I’m not blind. I always thought of you as a daughter, Ellie. I still do. As for that baby…” She sighed. “Maybe he won’t let that one down.”
Walking home later, Eleanor thought about the strange turns of fate. Her heels clicked a steady rhythm on the pavement, and the spring wind played with her hair. The sapphire necklace on another woman’s neck. The child she couldn’t have. And the strange sense of liberation that had come after the split, as if a heavy weight she hadn’t even realized she was carrying had been lifted from her shoulders.
She stopped on a bridge, leaning against the cool metal railing. Below, the river carried away the last of the winter ice. The city was preparing for spring: swollen buds on the trees, flashes of new green, the first flowers in the parks. The ice on the river was beginning to crack, the sound echoing in the evening air. Life went on, stubborn and persistent.
“The bitter truth is better than a sweet lie,” Eleanor thought, breathing in the fresh air, feeling it fill her lungs and push out the stale, lingering pain. And for the first time in a long, long time, she felt truly free.
“
Comments are closed.