Chapter 2

All those mocking comments from the forum flashed before my eyes, word by word.

My fingers, clutching my clothes, nearly drew blood.

Someone gently tapped my shoulder just then.

I turned to see the family member of the little boy admitted to pediatrics last night.

"Nurse, could you please check if my son's IV needs to come out?"

He towered over Brian, looking at me with a gentle expression.

The IV had just been inserted. I knew he was giving me an out.

"I'll take a look."

"Charlotte!"

Brian called out behind me, his voice neither too loud nor too quiet.

I ignored him and headed toward the ward, quickly recalling that the family member's name was Ethan Miller.

Around the corner, I stopped. "Thank you."

A slender hand extended a tissue. Only then did I realize I'd been crying.

Ethan patted my shoulder.

"Sometimes when people panic about their sick family members, they really are hard to communicate with."

He thought Brian was a frantic patient's relative.

The next second, he pulled a bag of candy from his pocket and pressed it into my hand.

I froze.

He looked a bit embarrassed. "Eating something sweet might help you feel better."

Then he added, "It's my son's---secretly, don't let him see."

The tightness in my chest eased slightly. I couldn't help but laugh.

I remembered the little boy named Hudson well.

He never cried or fussed during blood draws or injections.

He'd just ask after each procedure, "Miss, can I have one candy?"

I pulled out the candy I kept in my pocket and showed him.

"He has several tests today, so I still have..."

Ethan smiled too, his expression full of tenderness.

"Thank you, but when you're around, he behaves much better."

I paused. He quickly clarified, "No ulterior motive---his mother used to be a nurse too."

A fellow professional. I suddenly understood why he'd intervened so abruptly.

A deliberate cough came from above. I looked up.

Brian stood there, his face dark, glaring at me. Peyton still clung to his arm.

The bloody scratch on her pale foot had long since dried, yet she still stood on tiptoe.

Peyton let out a light laugh. "Nurses really do have so many people to take care of. No wonder Charlotte is so attentive."

Before she finished speaking, Brian's face had already turned dark.

He snorted coldly through his nose, then turned and walked away supporting Peyton.

The contemptuous glance she threw my way looked like a proud queen surveying her domain.

I was speechless.

A month ago, she'd shown up at Brian's door in tears.

When I came out of the kitchen, she had her arms around his neck.

Only when she saw me did she awkwardly let go.

"I'm divorced."

Those four words didn't seem directed at Brian.

They were a declaration of war against me.

...

I'd known about her for a long time.

Back when Brian and I talked about everything, he'd mentioned a childhood friend who had a crush on him.

"My mom wouldn't let me hang out with her. She had a bad reputation."

"Lots of guys chased her, but she always followed me around."

He'd sounded annoyed, but his expression held that unmistakable male pride.

"Never had your heart race for her?"

He'd stopped smiling then, looking at me mischievously.

"If my heart raced for her, what would that leave for you? You're the only one who's ever made my heart race."

Coming from someone not good with words, that one line struck right at my heart.

So when he casually mentioned that Peyton was divorced and coming back, I didn't think much of it.

Not until she cried while hanging onto him, and he looked at her with eyes full of concern, wiping away her tears.

I realized I must have missed something.

An unimportant childhood friend wouldn't warrant him bringing her up specifically.

In the early morning hours, Brian sent two messages.

[Don't overthink it. I was just being impatient.]

[Charlotte, I do love you.]

Random and out of context. I looked at them but didn't reply.

My phone notified me of an update to a topic I followed. I clicked to find Brian had posted.

The timestamp showed a few minutes ago.

[It really bothers me. Even her touching me feels dirty.]

[Divorce isn't this disturbing. At least she'd only been with one man.]

[If she were even a janitor, I'd feel better about it.]

I silently read each line, feeling a deep chasm split open in my heart.

Those two messages didn't seem so random anymore.

I knew clearly he was wavering, torn.

That "I love you" was him winding himself up.

But I'd already heard the sound of the mechanism breaking.

I thought it over. This wedding would happen, but it didn't have to be with him.

I logged in with my real name and posted a reply.

[Brian, we're breaking up.]