“Morning,” he muttered to the young receptionist, keeping his tone light. “I was wondering what room Callan…” A pause.Panic. What was his last name? “Erm…Thomas. Callan Thomas. I wondered what room Callan Thomas was in, please.”
The girl sighed, chewing a piece of gum loudly. “Visiting hours aren’t for another—”
“Let him go. What’s fifteen minutes anyway?” an older nurse interrupted. She barely glanced up, too preoccupied by something on her screen. “He’s in 503. Take your first left and he’s halfway down the hall.”
She didn’t ask who he was or ask him to sign the visitors' register, and Logan turned before she could change her mind.
Callan was out cold when he arrived, his body rigid and mouth forced open with a breathing tube. He wasn’t the buff, pretty boy he remembered from the engagement post; he looked emaciated, grey, and his face had yellowed from bruising.
Logan felt something collapse in his stomach. This wasn’t what he expected. And in that moment, the guilt became unbearable.
You shouldn’t be here, he told himself, taking a step back.You’re not his friend. You’re not his family. You’re in love with his wife.
His throat burned, and he backed up towards the door, reaching for the handle when it suddenly opened from the other side.
A woman stood there, mid-fifties, her coat clinging damply to her arms, her dark red lipstick smudged at the corners like she’d put it on in a rush.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, her hand rising to her mouth. “Oh, Callan…” She didn’t seem to notice Logan at first, rushing forward to what was most likely her son’s side, her fingers trembling as she brushed the hair from his forehead.
Then she looked at Logan, her eyes narrowing. “I’m sorry. You—are you a doctor?”
“No,” Logan said too quickly. “No, I…actually, I was just about to leave.”
She ignored his remark. “You know my son,” she said. It wasn’t a question, more a quiet assumption.
Logan opened his mouth to correct her, but the words dissolved on his tongue. How could he even begin to explain why he was there? He couldn’t.
He watched as she pulled the chair closer to the bed and sank into it slowly, as though her grief weighed more than she could physically carry. “You’re the first one to visit,” she admitted. “I’m scared I’m going to lose him. I’m really…scared.”
Her voice broke, and Logan forced a hollow smile. “Try to stay positive, as hard as that might be. I’m sure he’s getting the best care.”
She wiped her face with a napkin from her pocket, then let out a bitter, shaky breath. “I guess you’re right. Could be worse, couldn’t it? He could’ve died like the others.”
Her words made Logan freeze.
He had no right to comfort this woman. No right to sit here and pretend. But he couldn’t walk away either. So, he stayed, lowering himself into the chair beside her, each movement sinking him further into his guilt.
They sat in silence for a while, the only sounds being the gentle hum of the hospital machines and the occasional sniff from Callan’s mother. Finally, she turned to him, her gaze intense. He held his breath, waiting for her verdict, his expression serious, like a schoolboy awaiting detention.
“I’ve never seen you before. What’s your name?”
Logan hesitated, racking his brain for a believable answer. He’d never been a gold medallist in dishonesty.
“Lee,” he said finally, the lie feeling clumsy and transparent.
“Lee,” she repeated. “Sorry, I don’t think he’s ever mentioned you before. Mind you, he doesn’t tell me much these days…not since that girl came along.”
His stomach dropped. He already knew who she meant, but he asked anyway, hoping maybe she’d say someone else. “Who? Daisy?”
She didn’t answer straight away, and her gaze shifted back to Callan, her fingers tightening around his hand. “There’s something about her,” she added in a low voice, as if confessing something she wasn't supposed to admit. “Between you and me, I think he’s always been more into her than the other way around. I know what people look like when they’re in love, and the two of them…isn’t it.”
Logan’s jaw clenched, and he glanced at Callan, hoping he might stir or cause a distraction. But there was only stillness.
“Now, she’s trapped him with the baby.”
The words hit Logan like cold water.Trapped. As if Daisy were some kind of predator. He stared down at his hands, pressing his fingers together, trying to ground himself.
“I don’t know her that well,” he said carefully, forcing his voice to stay even. “But from what I’ve seen, they look good together.”
