"And who might this be?"
I looked past Edith's scrutinizing gaze and locked eyes with Patrick, whose pupils contracted sharply.
I was curious how he'd answer.
He looked like someone who'd been dragged out of a beautiful dream. The smile that had been playing at the corners of his mouth flattened into a hard line, then dissolved into a resigned sigh.
"My wife. Tracey Galloway."
His tone carried a grim satisfaction, the kind that came from a wound you inflicted on yourself just to hurt someone else.
"You know how it is. Nobody waits around for someone for three years without a safety net. I've got the entire Sanchez family behind me. I couldn't afford to gamble."
Edith was clearly unprepared for that answer. Her fingers twisted into the hem of her clothes, and she forced a smile that looked worse than tears.
"Oh! So you're the little wife. I'm Edith Pruitt. I used to be Patrick's neighbor. You can call me Edith, just like he does."
Something seemed to occur to her, and she added with a coy pout of regret, "Actually, Patrick never really called me by my full name. He always used a nickname. He was such a tease back then."
I couldn't be bothered to dissect the barbs hidden beneath Edith's silk-soft words. Instead, I stared at Patrick in surprise, a warmth rising unbidden in my chest.
I let myself believe it. Pathetically, shamelessly, I let myself believe it. He'd acknowledged me in front of the one that got away. Maybe he did care about me. Maybe today really had been nothing more than a good deed.
Patrick cut through her rambling.
"Don't talk about the past. If I could, I'd rather I'd never met you at all."
Then he turned to me, his voice softening.
"Babe, ignore her. If it weren't for old times' sake, she could drop dead on the side of the road and I wouldn't spare her a glance."
Edith seemed to catch the meaning beneath his words. She assumed he still resented her for disappearing without a word all those years ago. Her small face crumpled with helplessness. She pressed her lips together, said nothing, and quietly slipped into the back seat.
Patrick strode to the driver's side. I turned my head to watch the scenery blur past the window. From the back seat came Edith's bitter, self-mocking laugh.
"Patrick, why am I so pathetic? I threw away the best years of my life for a man who wasn't worth it."
Silence filled the car.
Edith seemed to steel herself. Her gaze burned into the back of Patrick's head, and when she spoke, her voice was solemn.
"The truth is, I came back for someone important. I thought seeing him again would be difficult, but it seems fate had other plans."
Patrick's voice cut through the air, cold as cracked ice.
"Maybe in that person's eyes, your return is nothing but trouble."
Edith's face went white. She stopped talking.
I'd just been savoring a flicker of sweetness over Patrick's loyalty when I noticed his hands on the steering wheel. His knuckles were bone-white, veins standing out like cords.
A heaviness settled over my chest for no reason I could name. Instinctively, I cracked the window open, desperate for a breath of fresh air.
The gap was barely an inch wide before Edith erupted into a violent coughing fit.
Patrick's expression tightened. He shot me a glare and slammed the window shut.
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."
