I lined them up neatly on the table, as if I were doing an inventory after a long, foolish dream that had finally ended. Every swipe, every gift, every lie—here they were. Proof of how much I gave and how little it meant.
....
Two weeks later, he came back.
Dominic looked perfect, as always. Clean suit, sharp tie, the faint trace of hospital disinfectant still clinging to him. It didn’t make him human... it made him polished again, restored, untouchable.
“Baby,” he said softly, stepping inside as though nothing had happened. “I’ve been so busy at work. I missed you.”
He tried to hug me. I stepped back.
He didn’t mention the hospital. He thought if he smiled the same way, if he kept his voice tender and routine, I’d keep pretending I didn’t know. But I’d seen everything. I’d seen him shield her. I’d seen him bleed for her.
He never bled for me.
“Where were you?” I asked finally, my voice low.
He blinked, then exhaled deeply, “My father,” he began. “He got into an accident two towns away. I drove there the moment I heard. It was bad, Rosie. I spent the first week night at the hospital, the next managing things with his doctors and lawyers. I didn’t want to worry you.”