Michael finally called me back the next day.
I was at the hospital, getting checked out with the help of a nurse. Once the exam was done, I could go home and rest.
"Emily, where are you? Why aren’t you home?"
I let out a soft laugh. So, he finally remembered I existed.
"What’s so funny? Why didn’t you make breakfast this morning?"
Right. I’d made breakfast for him every morning for years. Because of his sensitive stomach and the fact that he thought outside food was unhygienic, I’d always gotten up early to cook for him.
"Michael, I’m at the hospital."
There was a pause on the other end.
Then, faintly, I heard Lily’s delicate voice. "Michael, is your wife mad because of yesterday? Maybe she’s just pretending she’s in the hospital to punish you. It’s my fault. I don’t even know how to steer a yacht. If it hadn’t capsized, your wife wouldn’t have fallen into the ocean…"
Michael rushed to comfort her. "Don’t say that, sweetheart. With her strong body? No way she’d end up in a hospital. She loves the water. Swims in the pool every week. A little seawater? She probably wishes she could do laps in it."
I stopped listening after that. I didn’t need to hear more.
Inside, I was already shattered beyond repair.
Yes, before I got pregnant, I did love swimming. But now? In the middle of winter in sub-zero ocean water? He thought I wanted to swim laps in it?
Had he forgotten I was six months pregnant?
Since I found out I was expecting, I hadn’t even touched the pool. I barely left the bed, terrified of losing this hard-won child.
Michael had to insist that I attend Lily's birthday party yesterday; otherwise, I wouldn't have gone.
It was her 26th birthday, and she had insisted on some kind of yacht race. Michael and I were paired on one yacht while she was alone on another.
Right when everything had to go smoothly, it didn’t. Her yacht flipped.
Michael had shoved me overboard to save her.
"Emily? What are you doing here?"
His familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Michael was standing there with Lily by his side, helping her stand in line for her check-up.
Meanwhile, I was across the room, picking up my test results.
I looked at him calmly. My husband was helping another woman get medical care while I was left alone to bleed. The absurdity of it all struck me.
"I already told you that I’m at the hospital."
A flicker of guilt and panic crossed his face. He rushed toward me, trying to peek at the paperwork in my hands, but I stepped away.
He coughed awkwardly. "Emily, are you okay?"
"It’s all my fault," he added quickly. "I acted on impulse yesterday. I just wanted to save Lily. I didn’t realize you fell into the water too. I looked for you as soon as I got back on the yacht, honestly. When I heard you were safe, that’s when I took Lily to the hospital."
I looked at him long and hard. If I hadn’t seen through him already, maybe I would’ve believed that speech.
Right on cue, Lily walked up, wiping away tears. "I’m sorry, Emily. It’s all my fault. Please don’t be mad at Michael. Just let him take you home. I can handle the rest of the check-up on my own."
Michael, who had clearly intended to take me home, now visibly hesitated.
And I understood. Of course, I did.
If this had been a few months ago, I’d have backed down. I always did.
And Lily knew it too. That was why she had the nerve to say something so sickeningly sweet and passive-aggressive.
But this time?
I ignored her completely and looked directly at Michael. "Well? Are you coming or not? Because if you’re not, I’ll just go myself."
As we walked away, I caught a glimpse of Lily’s reflection in the hospital’s glass door.
Gone was the delicate, tearful girl. Her face was cold, sharp. Calculating.
She was a completely different person.
