Tessa.
I let out a slow, shaky sigh as the door closed behind my husband, the sound echoing far louder than it should have in the quiet hallway. My gaze lingered on the spot where he had stood only seconds ago, where his presence had filled the air, before he walked away to accompany another woman to the hospital.
Another woman.
The words burned even as I tried to swallow them down.
For a brief, humiliating moment, I almost followed him. Almost reached for the door handle and said I would come too. After all, I was his wife. I had every right to sit beside him, to be the one he looked at first, to be the one people associated with him.
But then I stopped myself.
No.
Doing that would only make Olivia look at me with that subtle, pitying expression again, the one that said she's insecure, she's afraid, she's holding on too tightly. And that was something I refused to accept. I had already lost my memories; I would not lose my dignity too.
