A lie.
She was lying to him for another man.
The realization made Evan’s heart ache as if it were being squeezed in a vise. His breath caught for a second, but his face remained a mask of calm. He simply nodded, his voice low and raspy. “Fine. I’m going to take a shower.”
Without another word, Evan walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The scalding water streamed down his back.
He pressed his hands against the cold, cream-colored tiles, his body bent slightly. He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to storm back out and confront Emma, to demand who that man was.
An image of the man standing next to Emma that evening flashed through his mind.
From his angle, Evan couldn’t see the man’s face clearly, nor could he make out what he was holding up for her with his left hand, the one closest to Emma. All he saw was the unguarded smile on Emma’s face as she looked into the man’s eyes.
He had never imagined that one day, Emma would smile like that for any man other than him.
Evan clenched his fists, but the courage to confront her right then and there had vanished.
He remembered the divorce papers from a while back.
Subconsciously, he was afraid. Afraid that if he pushed any further, Emma would leave him for good.
Although, he knew the possibility of her leaving was zero.
Because he would never give her the chance. There was only one way she would leave him: over his dead body.
Outside the bathroom, Emma was still shaken from Evan’s questioning, not quite processing what had just happened.
When she finally collected herself, she scoffed at her own fear. Her conscience was clear, so what did she have to be afraid of?
But his bizarre questions had certainly caught her off guard. Frowning, she stared at the bathroom door, a new worry creeping in. Could Evan have seen her at the hospital that afternoon?
Just as the thought crossed her mind, the glass door to the bathroom opened.
Evan came out and saw Emma sitting up in bed. “Still awake?”
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