"Celine, I swear—I'll use every skill I've learned in medicine to keep you and our baby safe. No illness. No pain. Ever."
How laughable.
The man who'd sworn to protect me and our child for a lifetime was now ready to end that child's life with his own hands.
For another woman.
I couldn't stand looking at that mask anymore.
"I'm tired," I said flatly. "I want to go home."
"I'll drive you—"
"No." I shook my head. "The surgery's coming up. You must have preparations to make. Go do what you need to do. I'll take a cab."
Something flickered in his eyes. Tenderness. Gratitude.
"Celine..." His voice dropped, reverent. "Marrying someone as understanding as you is the greatest blessing of my life."
If I hadn't seen that post.
If that college girl didn't exist.
Maybe—just maybe—the sincerity in his eyes would have moved me.
But now, meeting that gaze so full of love—
All I felt was the bitter taste of irony.
So love really could be faked. Perfectly. Completely.
I said nothing. Just turned and walked away.
But I didn't go far.
I slipped into a café on the ground floor of the hospital, ordered a coffee, and waited.
Minutes later, Edward emerged—white coat gone, civilian clothes on, moving with obvious urgency.