For a split second, I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to ask if he ever remembered. If he ever thought about the baby we never got to hold.
But I swallowed it down.
The past was gone. No point digging up what was already buried.
Or maybe… he had forgotten a long time ago.
I forced my voice to stay calm and steady. “The doctors at our hospital are more than capable. You can just register and wait your turn.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, the door opened again.
Zara Bennett.
Her baby bump was unmistakable as she walked in, linking her arm through Hayes’s. She looked up at him, her voice soft, almost pitiful.
“Hayes, is Dr. Montague unwilling to help us?” she murmured. “It’s my fault for forgetting to make an appointment. I didn’t mean to waste your time.”
Hayes didn’t pull away from her touch. Instead, he reached out and pinched her cheek playfully.
“I have time,” he said, his voice gentle, too gentle. “If she doesn’t want to help, it’s fine. I’ll wait with you.”
Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, whispering something meant only for her.
The warmth between them was suffocating.
I didn’t know what hurt more—the fact that he had never been this gentle with me, or the fact that I once believed he could be.
There was a time when he would go out of his way to make me smile. When he’d spend his last dollar on a necklace I liked, promising me that whatever any other woman had, I’d have it too.
He used to come home worn out, his body spent from climbing the corporate ladder. But no matter how tired he was, he’d always make time for me. He’d still talk to me, still listen.
He used to tell me those late-night conversations with me made him feel alive.
And now?
Now, we barely exchanged words.
I tore my gaze away from them, forcing myself not to linger on something that had already crumbled.
Just as I turned back to my desk, Hayes spoke again, casual as ever.
“The incident last time… it was Zara’s fault,” he said like he was talking about the weather. “I had someone buy some supplements. I’ll send them to Mom later—to apologize.”
I froze. 'Apologize? To my mother?'
My jaw clenched, my nails digging into my palm.
She was gone.
What was the point of apologizing now?
Elise’s POV
“There’s no need,” I said flatly. “She doesn’t need it anymore.”
The day my mother passed, I had called Hayes countless times. Not once did he pick up.