Chapter 2: The Question He Was Afraid to Ask
“Tell me this is a joke.””
Vincent's voice carried through the staff lounge door.
I stood motionless, listening to the man who had spent months lying to me struggle to understand a single honest decision.
Rebecca answered calmly.
“Dr. Moretti has made her intentions clear. She wants to proceed with the divorce.””
“You can't just walk into a hospital and announce something like this.””
“I can deliver legal notice on my client's behalf.””
“She is my wife.””
The words should have comforted me once.
Instead, they sounded like a claim of ownership.
Rebecca didn't raise her voice.
“Then perhaps you should have treated her like one.””
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I closed my eyes.
Rebecca had been the first person I told about the photographs, the unexplained money, and the growing suspicion that Vincent had another life.
She hadn't judged me when I admitted I was afraid to leave.
She had simply asked, “If nothing changes, can you live like this for another five years?””
I had cried for nearly an hour after answering no.
Now Vincent sounded almost breathless.
“Where is Claire?””
“Working.””
“I need to speak with her.””
“You may request a conversation through me.””
“She's my wife!””
“And she is my client.””
A door slammed somewhere down the hallway.
I waited until the voices faded before returning to the nurses' station.
The department had grown quieter.
Christmas lights blinked around the reception desk, their cheerful colors reflecting against stainless steel instruments and polished floors.
A nurse named Melissa approached me.
“Dr. Moretti, are you all right?””
I nodded automatically.
She looked unconvinced.
“You've been here for twelve hours. You should take a break.””
“I'll rest when the shift ends.””
It was the same answer I had given for years.
When my father died.
When our first pregnancy ended.
When Vincent began sleeping in the guest room.
Medicine had always been easier than admitting I was hurting.
A few minutes later, the obstetrics resident updated me on Vanessa.
Her blood pressure had stabilized, and the bleeding was decreasing.
She needed close monitoring, but there was still hope.
I reviewed the notes, checked her latest results, and walked toward her room.
Vincent stood beside the bed, holding Vanessa's hand.
She looked exhausted beneath the hospital blanket.
When she saw me, her fingers tightened around his.
“Is my baby going to survive?”” she asked.
“We're doing everything we can,” I said.
“Your condition has improved, but we need to monitor you carefully.””
She nodded, tears slipping down her temples.
Vincent looked at me as though he wanted to say something.
I ignored him and explained the warning signs Vanessa needed to report immediately.
Professional distance was the only thing keeping me upright.
As I turned to leave, Vanessa spoke.
“Dr. Moretti?””
I stopped.
“Thank you for helping me.””
For a moment, I couldn't answer.
She looked genuinely frightened.
Not triumphant.
Not smug.
Just frightened.
I wondered whether she knew Vincent was married.
I wondered whether she had believed every promise he had made to her.
Then I remembered the photographs and the hotel receipts.
Whatever their arrangement was, I couldn't let it interfere with my work.
“You're welcome,” I said quietly.
Outside, Vincent followed me.
“Claire, please. Just five minutes.””
“You can discuss the divorce with Rebecca.””
“This isn't about the divorce.””
I stopped walking.
“Then what is it about?””
He glanced toward Vanessa's room.
“I need you to understand.””
“Understand what? That you lied about New York? That you've been seeing another woman? That you introduced her to an entire hospital as your wife?””
His face tightened.
“I never wanted you to find out like this.””
A bitter laugh escaped me.
“You planned to tell me eventually?””
“It's complicated.””
“Marriage isn't complicated, Vincent. You either honor it or you don't.””
He rubbed a hand across his face.
“I was going to explain everything.””
“When?””
He didn't answer.
“After Christmas? After New Year's? After you came home and kissed my forehead again?””
His silence hurt more than any excuse could have.
I stepped closer, keeping my voice low.
“Last year, when I lost our baby, you told me you couldn't leave work because a business crisis needed your attention.””
“I was dealing with something serious.””
“So serious that you couldn't answer seventeen calls?””
His eyes flickered.
“I've regretted that day ever since.””
“Then why did you repeat the same mistake tonight?””
He looked away.
Because there was no answer that could make his actions acceptable.
I turned toward the nurses' station.
“Don't come looking for me again tonight.””
“Claire.””
I kept walking.
An hour later, Rebecca found me in an empty consultation room.
She closed the door and placed a folder on the desk.
“The initial papers are prepared,” she said.
“But before we discuss the next steps, I need to ask you something.””
I sat down.
“What?””
“Are you certain you want to proceed immediately?””
I looked at the folder.
For years, I had imagined a different future.
A house with a nursery.
A Christmas tree surrounded by toys.
Vincent holding our child while I watched from the doorway.
I had mourned that future once already.
Now I had another chance at it, and the thought of raising a child without the man I had married terrified me.
But fear was not a reason to remain in a marriage built on lies.
“Yes,” I said.
Rebecca nodded and opened her notebook.
“Then we'll protect your interests and keep everything documented.””
I hesitated.
“There is something else.””
She looked up.
I placed both hands over my stomach.
“I'm pregnant.””
Rebecca went completely still.
“How far along?””
“About five weeks, according to the dates. I haven't had my first ultrasound yet.””
“Does Vincent know?””
“No.””
“Does Vanessa?””
“No.””
Rebecca exhaled slowly.
“This changes the practical issues we'll need to address, but it doesn't change your right to seek a divorce.””
“I know.””
“Do you want him informed tonight?””
I thought about Vincent standing beside Vanessa's bed.
The fear in his face.
The tenderness in his voice.
The way he had asked about her baby before asking whether I was all right.
“No,” I said.
“Not until I know this pregnancy is progressing.””
Rebecca closed the folder.
“Then we won't disclose it tonight.””
I felt an unfamiliar rush of relief.
For the first time since the pregnancy test turned positive, someone was helping me protect this child rather than asking me to protect everyone else's feelings.
A knock sounded at the door.
Melissa entered, carrying a chart.
“Dr. Moretti, Vanessa Reed's husband is asking to speak with you.””
Rebecca and I exchanged a glance.
“My husband's in the hallway?”” I asked.
Melissa hesitated.
“He says he's her husband. He also says he won't leave until you explain why you're divorcing him.””
Rebecca stood.
“Then perhaps he needs to hear one thing clearly.””
She opened the door before I could stop her.
Vincent was waiting outside.
His eyes moved from Rebecca to me, then down to the folder in her hand.
“Claire, we need to talk.””
Rebecca held out a copy of the notice.
“You have been informed that your wife intends to initiate divorce proceedings.””
He didn't take it.
Instead, he stared at me.
“Is there someone else?””
The question was so absurd that, for a moment, I thought I had misunderstood him.
“You brought another woman into my emergency department and called her your wife.””
“That's not what I meant.””
“Then what did you mean?””
He stepped closer.
“Have you been seeing someone? Is that why you've been acting differently?””
I felt something inside me turn cold.
For months, I had been studying his behavior, trying to identify the moment our marriage had broken.
He had apparently been so comfortable with his lies that he could no longer imagine I might leave because of what he had done.
“No, Vincent,” I said.
“There is no one else.””
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
I hated that even now, he expected reassurance.
“There is only me,” I continued.
“And I'm done begging my own husband to choose me.””
He looked as though I had slapped him.
Then his gaze dropped briefly toward my abdomen.
It was an ordinary movement.
A fraction of a second.
But my heart lurched.
Had he guessed?
Before he could ask, a nurse called my name from the corridor.
“Dr. Moretti, we need you in Trauma Two.””
I turned immediately.
Vincent reached for my arm but stopped before touching me.
“Claire, please. We aren't finished.””
I looked back at him.
“No. We're not.””
Then I walked away.
Behind me, Rebecca began explaining the paperwork.
May you like
And for the first time, Vincent Moretti was forced to face a possibility he had never considered.
His wife might actually leave him.
