And the only person who should’ve held me… left me again.
For his stepsister.
The hospital walls were quiet. And for the next three days, I didn’t hear a single word from my husband.
Not a call. Not a text. Not even a cold glance through the door.
Instead, he sent nurses. Round-the-clock professionals, paid to check on me like I was a client on a bill. They never used his name, never said where he was. But I already knew.
Because I saw it all on social media.
They were in Sweden.
Troy and Bianca. One post showed Bianca posing on a glass-bottom bridge over a glacier. Another had her pouting beside a fireplace, Troy’s coat draped around her shoulders.
One video caught them sharing fondue.
Bianca giggled at the camera, feeding him a piece of strawberry dipped in chocolate.
“My brother spoils me sooo much,” she said sweetly. “Best vacation ever. Recharging with my favorite person.”
I closed the app and stared at the ceiling.
I remembered how, when we first got married, Troy kept his distance from her. Barely spoke a word. I thought maybe they weren’t close. Maybe she just annoyed him. It didn’t matter.
But now… I knew better.
He wasn’t ignoring her.
He was avoiding temptation.
And now, he wasn’t bothering to hide it at all. They were together. Not just as siblings. No one looked at their sister the way he looked at her in that video.
And she? She looked like she’d already won.
I pressed my palm against my chest and exhaled. Just a few more days. Just a few more hours.
I had already filed for the divorce. My visa would arrive soon. I’d already made quiet arrangements with the embassy. My ticket out was coming.
All I had to do was survive until then.
On the fifth day, I was finally cleared for discharge. I changed out of the hospital gown, packed my things, and signed the paperwork. The nurse wheeled me to the lobby.
That’s when I saw them.
Troy.
And Bianca.
Sitting side by side.
Bianca had shopping bags in her hands—designer names in bold gold fonts, as if she was here for a runway rather than an apology.
“Thalia,” she called sweetly. “You’re looking better!”
I didn’t answer. She walked over, holding out the bags like a peace offering.
“I got you something,” she said, smile sugary. “Consider it a gift. I didn’t mean for things to get so… crazy. But everything’s fine now, right? We’re okay. Especially since my brother and I made up. That little incident actually helped us reconnect.”