The director's expression grew complicated. After a long moment, he spoke.
"You and your sister are good people," he sighed. "In this business for so many years, I rarely see good people like you. But sometimes, Mrs. Rockefeller, kindness is a luxury."
I didn't acknowledge his hint. I turned and walked out of the director's office.
The top floor of the hospital's administrative building was deserted. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. My hands were shaking. I didn't know if it was anger or fear. Maybe both.
"Ella."
I opened my eyes. Lucas stood at the end of the hallway, backlit. I couldn't see his expression. But I knew his appearance here and now wasn't a coincidence.
"Why didn't you discuss this with me first?" My voice was calm—so calm it surprised even me. But that calm was only surface-level. Underneath, rage churned.
He walked closer. Light fell on his face. "Ella, this was supposed to be a surprise."
"This way?"
"Ella," Lucas looked confused, "isn't it good for Maya to recover quickly?"
That sentence ignited me.
"What gives you the right to decide for me?" My voice rose. "What gives you the right to bribe the hospital? To use your 'I can buy anything' logic to turn me into an executioner?"
"Ella..." Lucas's voice wavered, panicked.
"Don't say my name," my body shook, throat so tight I almost gagged. "You know why we always fight? Because you keep forcing what you want onto me. You've never actually asked what I want! You always decide on your own, then force me to accept it!"
When I finished, Lucas froze.
His hand hung at his side, clenching into a fist then releasing. His Adam's apple bobbed.
"I wanted to get you out of here faster," he said quietly. "I didn't want you running around like this every day. We could go back to Manhattan, you could..."
"I don't want to see you again!" I cut him off, turned, and walked quickly toward the elevators.
I could feel Lucas watching me, that gaze pressing on my back, heavy as stone.
But this time, he didn't follow.
Over the next few days, Lucas still came to pick me up every day. But I meant what I said. I kept my distance. When he called my name, I pretended not to hear.
I couldn't figure it out. Lucas's work had always been so busy he couldn't even take my calls. But suddenly he had time. Time to come to the hospital every day, time to go to the supermarket with me, time to call me every night.
Either his work had suddenly gotten less busy. Or he'd never wanted to spend time on me before.
The second possibility stabbed into my chest like a knife. It made everything I'd sacrificed for our marriage two years ago seem even more worthless. Those nights waiting for him atthe manor, those calls he didn't answer, those moments I told myself "he's busy, he's working."
Turned out he just didn't want to spend time on me.
This belated devotion made me hate him more than his harassment ever had.
That evening, I left the hospital early on purpose. I didn't want Lucas cornering me at Maya's room again. I needed time to cool down.
When I left the hospital, it was still early. With the cold weather, there weren't many people on the street. I walked fast, hands in my pockets, breath turning to white fog in the cold air.
Then I heard footsteps.
At first, I thought it was an echo. But then I realized it wasn't. The rhythm was different. Not an echo. Someone else's footsteps.
