The slim figure darted into the attached lounge before I could reach her.
I tried to follow, but Lionel caught me around the waist and pulled me down onto the couch.
He sat behind me, one hand pinching the bridge of my nose while the other carefully wiped the blood from my face.
Close as we were, I could smell another woman on his fingertips.
"Moira, I'm sorry. I lost my temper. But you shouldn't talk to a woman like that."
"Go home and be good. Leave her alone, and I won't let any of this touch you."
He murmured the promise in the same gentle tone he'd used the day he married me ten years ago. Only back then, the words were different:
"Moira, I'll be faithful to you. Always."
So this was where Lionel's "always" ended.
My stomach lurched violently and the nosebleed surged back, soaking his white coat red in seconds.
Something close to concern flickered in his eyes. He grabbed a fistful of tissues and pressed them against my nostrils.
I watched his hands work, then smiled a thin, ruined smile.
"Couldn't you two have waited until I was dead?"
Lionel's expression went blank.
I pulled free of his arms, walked to the door, and picked up the medical report crumpled with shoe prints. I held it out to him.
He was about to take it.
The lounge door opened from inside.
"Dr. Dickerson, you tore my clothes..."
The voice was syrupy, with a lilt I recognized.
I turned around and every drop of blood in my body went cold. The report slipped from my fingers and drifted to the floor.
Fay Simmons stood there wearing Lionel's dress shirt, the hem barely reaching her upper thighs.
Lionel's gaze dropped to the skin the fabric couldn't cover. Mine locked on Fay's face.
Of all people, this was who Lionel had been protecting.
Fay greeted me as if nothing were wrong.
"Hey there, Moira! Long time no see!"
My teeth chattered beyond my control. My voice came out scraped raw.
"Why? Why her?!"
The fury I'd been choking down erupted. I seized Lionel's collar and shoved my face into his.
"She spread those fake videos of me. She got me expelled. Did you forget all of that?"
Lionel wrenched free and slammed me back onto the couch. His voice cracked into a snarl.
"Enough, Moira! Are you going to hold that petty crap over everyone's heads for the rest of your life? Fay was only eighteen. And let's not pretend you weren't the one throwing yourself at her boyfriend first!"
A ringing filled my ears.
For what felt like minutes I watched Lionel's lips move without hearing a single word.
He'd forgotten.
I'd only been nineteen that year.
I never threw myself at Fay's boyfriend. I was just a pawn in their game.
Fay launched her vendetta because her boyfriend glanced at me once in the dining hall. She hired a hacker to deepfake a video of me and my professor, then spread it across the university forums.
I was forced out of school.
My professor, a man with a spotless reputation his entire life, jumped from the faculty building.
And Fay Simmons, the one who destroyed us both, walked free on her father's money and connections.
Now she was tugging at Lionel's sleeve, smiling like a child.
"Don't fight with Moira because of me. If she needs to vent, let her. I don't mind!"
"Fine, let's say it was all my fault. Moira, I'm sorry. I really am!"
Fay dropped to her knees in front of me, grabbed my hand, and lifted it toward her own cheek.
The instant before the slap could land, Lionel caught my wrist. His grip was so tight I felt my bones grind together.
"Moira Swanson, how did I end up with a wife this petty and vindictive?"
"Fay is on her knees for you. What more do you want? You want her to die for your dead lover?"
I stared at Lionel, eyes wide, unable to believe what had just come out of his mouth.
"Lionel! He was your professor too!"
