Nathan’s jaw tightened, and he stared at the wall.

He looked at the digital clock above the door.

It was 2:14 AM.

He stood up and walked out into the hallway to speak with the nurse.

I lay there in the dark, listening to the slow drip of the IV.

My phone, sitting on the bedside table, suddenly buzzed.

It was not a call from my husband.

It was an automated email notification.

A receipt from a luxury boutique hotel in Miami Beach.

Sent directly to our shared credit card account.

The glowing screen of my phone cast a blue light across the ceiling.

I did not sleep for the rest of that night.

The antiseptic smell of the hospital room became my entire world for the next three days.

The nurses changed my dressings and checked my vitals on a strict schedule.

Nathan stayed until the first morning light, then left to handle things at the office.

By the third afternoon, the rain in Seattle had turned into a steady, gray drizzle.

I sat upright in the bed, the plastic backrest clicking into place behind me.