He replied curtly, "There’s a drinking party tonight. Just get whatever you want for dinner." Then, as if to head off any questions, he added, "No strangers—just friends from back in the day." It felt like someone had doused me in ice water. I tossed the flowers into the trash and took a taxi to the hospital.
When the doctor asked about my family, I automatically answered, "He’s in a meeting." Realizing how ridiculous that sounded, I amended it, “Actually, I’m... a widow.”
The procedure went smoothly. There was no physical pain, but a deep emptiness gnawed at me, as though something vital had been torn away.
On the way back in the taxi, I caught a glimpse of his familiar car heading toward the hospital. On impulse, I reached for my phone, thinking about asking Erik why he was there. But just then, I saw his best friend’s latest post on social media: Life’s easy when there’s no tigress around to keep watch. Erik really has a soft spot for Polly." Attached was a photo of Erik gazing tenderly at his childhood sweetheart, Polly Parrish, lying on a hospital bed.