Out With the Old, In With the New

I didn't respond to Morgan's words. After a while, he asked, "Why didn't you call me when I didn't go home?"

In the past, he was always cooped up in the lab because he needed something to show to get promoted. I would always call him at 10:00 pm to urge him to return out of concern for his health.

He would impatiently tell me off each time and say that I was interrupting him. I'd finally stopped asking now, but he wasn't used to it.

I shut my eyes stoically. I was sleepy. "I'm hanging up."

Just then, the doctor on the night shift came to check on me. He lowered his voice and asked, "Are you okay sleeping in my territory?"

He was half-teasing and half-serious.

I looked up at him. His face was familiar, but I couldn't remember where I'd seen him. I forgot to hang up amidst my daze, so Morgan heard him.

He snapped, "Where are you, Willow? Where the heck are you?"

He was so noisy. I hung up and blocked his number.

The doctor checked my temperature. "You have a low fever."

He adjusted the room's temperature before looking at me hesitantly.

I glanced at his badge—his name was Damien Carr. I genuinely couldn't remember him, though.

Before leaving, he said, "Get some rest."

I couldn't for the life of me remember where I'd seen him, so I stopped thinking about it.

…

After three days in the hospital, my best friend, Vivian Stone, called me. "Where are you? I can't believe you manned up enough to run away from home!"

She sounded excited and elated for what I did. In the past, I would turn her and my other friends down whenever they invited me on trips because I was worried Morgan wouldn't eat well. He had gastric issues, and eating takeout always made him feel horrible. Later, I'd barely left the house because I wanted to focus on conceiving.

At the time, my friends had complained about me always choosing Morgan over them. I knew I was at fault, so I would always gloss over the subject.

Now, I listened as Vivian said, "You know what? Your husband has called all of us, asking where you are. It's like he's gone mad."

I couldn't gloss things over anymore—Morgan, who was supposedly searching for me like a madman, was at the hospital with Iris for a checkup.

Perhaps a woman's sixth sense was really sharper than anything else—she suddenly turned to meet my gaze. Then, she linked arms with Morgan and smiled at me. There was a hint of smugness in it.

I smiled back at her and turned to handle my discharge procedures. What was there to be smug about when she was picking up someone's leftovers?

Since Morgan probably wouldn't be home so soon, I hurried home to pack my things and leave. To my surprise, I ran into him just as I was leaving the house.

He looked steely. "You've just returned. Where are you going now?"

He'd gotten mad at me more than once throughout our five-year marriage. He'd gotten angry when I'd accidentally ruined the shirt Isabel had gotten him while doing the laundry. He'd also been enraged after I'd hung up on Iris when she'd called him in the middle of the night.

This time, he was more furious than he'd ever been.

I looked at him in confusion. My gaze trailed to his arm, which was still in Iris'. Then, I looked at his hand, suddenly finding the wedding band on his ring finger a bother.

Mine was in my pocket, so I got it out and put it onto Iris' finger without hesitation. "Since you like someone else's husband so much, I'm sure you'll love this secondhand ring. I hope you two will stay together forever."

I was genuinely wishing them well. I'd even prepared a divorce agreement so they could officially get together. After that, I pushed Morgan away and left, dragging my suitcase with me.

However, he ran after me and hastily explained, "It's not like what you think, Willow. She's Isabel's sister… I've only been caring for her like I would my sister."