This wasn’t the first time Lionel had chosen Sandra over her. He had abandoned her when she was sick to rush to Sandra’s side. Seeing him here now was just another confirmation of his true priorities, and it was both infuriating and pathetically predictable.
For the past few days, he had been putting on such a show—making breakfast and dinner, waiting for her to eat with him, even getting rid of Cora. He had played the part of the devoted husband so well. But in the end, it was all a lie. This was who he really was.
A wave of disappointment and disgust washed over her, and she tore her gaze away.
Lionel saw the look in her eyes and knew she had misunderstood. He started to stand, ready to go to her and explain, but a sudden thought made him hesitate.
“What are you looking at me for, Lionel?” Sandra shrieked, making sure her voice was loud enough for Hannah to hear. “Did I stop you from going to her? Did I force you to be here? Go on, do whatever you want! The way you’re looking at her, anyone would think I was holding you hostage!”
Hannah heard her, but she didn’t care. She turned and walked toward the exit. Samuel looked confused, but Peter shot a knowing glance at Lionel before following his niece.
Lionel desperately wanted to chase after them, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Sandra—injured, alone, and in a wheelchair—in the middle of the hospital lobby. After a moment of agonizing indecision, he turned back to Sandra.
“I’m going to wheel you to the curb so you can get a cab. Then I’m going to find Hannah and explain this,” he said, his voice firm.
Sandra didn't answer, simply bowing her head as tears fell silently onto her lap.
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