For his stepsister.
The hospital walls were quiet. And for the next three days, I didn’t hear a single word from my husband.
Not a call. Not a text. Not even a cold glance through the door.
Instead, he sent nurses. Round-the-clock professionals, paid to check on me like I was a client on a bill. They never used his name, never said where he was. But I already knew.
Because I saw it all on social media.
They were in Sweden.
Troy and Bianca. One post showed Bianca posing on a glass-bottom bridge over a glacier. Another had her pouting beside a fireplace, Troy’s coat draped around her shoulders.
One video caught them sharing fondue.
Bianca giggled at the camera, feeding him a piece of strawberry dipped in chocolate.
“My brother spoils me sooo much,” she said sweetly. “Best vacation ever. Recharging with my favorite person.”
I closed the app and stared at the ceiling.
I remembered how, when we first got married, Troy kept his distance from her. Barely spoke a word. I thought maybe they weren’t close. Maybe she just annoyed him. It didn’t matter.
But now… I knew better.
He wasn’t ignoring her.
He was avoiding temptation.