His voice was angrier than I had ever heard it.
"Tracey! You're a nurse, for God's sake. You don't know that a woman who just gave birth can't be exposed to cold air?"
I apologized in a small voice, my heart pierced by a thousand invisible needles.
There was a time when he'd taken my side just like that.
At a family dinner, his half-brother had played a cruel little game with me. The moment I reached for something with my chopsticks, a plate of picked-over leftovers would slide right in front of me, perfectly timed.
Patrick noticed the malice. He flipped the entire table.
In the stunned, fearful silence that followed, he said, ice-cold, "If nobody wants to eat properly, then nobody eats."
After that, no one in the family dared disrespect me again.
I never imagined the next time I'd see that same ferocity, it would be aimed at me, warning me not to mistreat the person he cared about.
Edith suppressed her cough and spoke up gently.
"Patrick, don't talk to her like that. My health has always been fragile. It's not her fault."
As if realizing his tone had been too harsh, a flash of irritation crossed Patrick's face. He lowered his voice in apology.