Chapter 2
I did not confront Madison in the hospital room.
I wanted to.
Every nerve in my body screamed at me to walk back in, grab her purse, and demand to know what she had been giving my husband.
My husband.
I hated that the word still came so easily.
Daniel had betrayed me.
He had humiliated me.
He had let another woman wear his shirts, sleep beside him, and probably laugh at how long it took me to understand I had been replaced.
But he was lying in a hospital bed with failing kidneys.
And someone might have put him there.
Dr. Singh noticed me staring through the glass.
“You saw something?” she asked.
“She put a bottle in her purse.”
The doctor’s expression stayed calm, but her eyes sharpened.
“Medication?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do not accuse her directly.”
“I wasn’t planning to be polite.”
“I’m not asking you to be polite. I’m asking you to be careful.”
Careful.
That word had followed me my whole marriage.
Be careful, Claire.
Don’t sound jealous.
Don’t be emotional.
Don’t embarrass Daniel at work events.
Don’t ask too many questions.
Now careful meant something different.
It meant Madison might be more than a mistress.
It meant Daniel might have invited danger into his bed.
Dr. Singh lowered her voice.
“I’ll notify hospital security. If there is suspected poisoning, we have procedure.”
“Can you test the bottle?”
“Only if we obtain it legally.”
I looked at Madison again.
She was touching Daniel’s hair.
He looked weak, grateful, almost childlike.
She looked like a woman performing grief for an audience.
“I want his chart,” I said.
“You’re still legally his spouse?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can request access.”
“I want everything.”
Dr. Singh nodded.
“I’ll have records prepare copies.”
When I returned to Daniel’s room, Madison stopped whispering.
Her smile was too bright.
“Everything okay?”
I looked at Daniel.
His eyes searched mine like I was still the safest person in the room.
That made me angry.
“Dr. Singh wants more tests,” I said.
Daniel swallowed.
“What kind?”
“Toxicology.”
Madison’s hand froze on the bed rail.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“Toxicology?” she said. “Why?”
“Because healthy men don’t usually collapse into kidney failure for no reason.”
Daniel looked confused.
“I thought it was genetic.”
“Maybe.”
Madison laughed lightly.
“That seems dramatic. Doctors always test everything.”
I turned to her.
“What supplements has he been taking?”
Her face went blank.
“What?”
“He was living with you. Did he take anything?”
Daniel frowned.
“Madison makes these green shakes. Vitamins. Protein. Stuff from that wellness clinic she likes.”
Madison’s eyes flashed.
“They’re normal.”
“What clinic?” I asked.
She lifted her chin.
“You don’t get to interrogate me.”
“I do if you were feeding him things.”
“I was helping him be healthy.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Please stop.”
I looked at him.
That weak plea nearly broke me.
For years, I had stopped when he asked.
Stopped asking about late meetings.
Stopped questioning hotel receipts.
Stopped noticing perfume on his jackets.
Not this time.
“What clinic?” I repeated.
Madison grabbed her purse.
“I need coffee.”
She walked out fast.
Too fast.
I followed.
She heard me behind her near the elevator and spun around.
“You are unbelievable.”
“Am I?”
“He is dying and you’re trying to make this about your jealousy.”
“Show me the bottle.”
Her face changed.
“What bottle?”
“The one you put in your purse.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stepped closer.
“Then open your purse.”
She laughed, but it shook.
“You’re insane.”
“Maybe. Open it anyway.”
The elevator dinged.
Two nurses looked over.
Madison’s eyes filled instantly.
Fake tears.
“She’s harassing me,” she whispered. “My boyfriend is dying and his ex-wife is attacking me.”
Ex-wife.
The word landed like a slap.
Before I could answer, hospital security approached.
“Ma’am, is there a problem?”
Madison clutched her purse to her chest.
“Yes. She’s threatening me.”
I almost lost it.
Then I saw Dr. Singh behind the nurses.
She gave me the smallest shake of her head.
Careful.
So I stepped back.
“No problem,” I said.
Madison stared at me, surprised.
I smiled.
“You enjoy your coffee.”
She walked into the elevator.
The doors closed.
Dr. Singh came to my side.
“You handled that well.”
“I wanted to rip her purse open.”
“I know.”
“Can security check cameras?”
“Yes.”
“Will they?”
“Now that she made a complaint, absolutely.”
For the next hour, I sat beside Daniel while he drifted in and out of sleep.
His skin looked almost translucent.
I remembered the first year of our marriage, when he got the flu and acted like the world was ending.
I made him soup.
He kissed my wrist and said, “What would I do without you?”
Apparently, he had spent the last year finding out.
Now he opened his eyes.
“Claire?”
“I’m here.”
“I’m sorry.”
I looked away.
“Don’t.”
“I am.”
“You’re scared. Scared people apologize.”
His eyes filled.
“I was sorry before.”
“When? Before or after you slept with her?”
Pain crossed his face.
“I deserve that.”
“Yes.”
“I thought I loved her.”
I laughed once.
It came out bitter.
“Congratulations on the timing.”
He coughed.
I reached for the water automatically, then hated myself for it.
He noticed.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
“No.”
“Claire—”
“No. You missed being cared for. There’s a difference.”
Tears slipped down his temples into his hair.
I looked at him and felt two truths tearing me in half.
I did not want him dead.
I did not want him back.
Both were real.
A nurse entered with dialysis papers.
Then Dr. Singh returned, holding a sealed evidence bag.
Inside was a small amber bottle.
My heart stopped.
“We found this in the women’s restroom trash,” she said.
Madison had thrown it away.
Daniel stared.
“What is that?”
I leaned closer.
The label was handwritten.
Metabolic Cleanse Drops.
No ingredients.
No clinic name.
Just a dosage instruction.
Ten drops daily.
My stomach turned.
Daniel whispered, “Madison gives me those.”
Dr. Singh’s face hardened.
“How often?”
“Every morning. In my shakes.”
I closed my eyes.
Daniel began shaking his head.
“No. She wouldn’t.”
I looked at him.
“You left me for a woman you don’t even know.”
He stared at the bottle.
For the first time since I arrived, fear in his face changed shape.
May you like
It was no longer fear of dying.
It was fear of understanding.
