Chapter 2 - Don’t Touch Her
“Clara?”
Her name left my mouth like a wound.
Ben looked up.
His face changed instantly.
He lowered Clara carefully against his chest, then stared at me with such hatred that I stopped walking.
I took one step toward them.
“Don’t touch her.”
His voice was quiet, but it carried more force than a shout.
Clara slowly opened her eyes.
Treatment had taken her hair and much of the softness from her face. Her skin was pale. Her blue hospital gown hung loosely from her shoulders.
One hand rested near her abdomen.
The other remained inside Ben’s.
I looked at their joined hands and heard every ugly suspicion I had carried during the final months of my marriage.
Clara hiding calls.
Ben becoming distant.
Secret charges.
Late appointments.
Had they been together?
Had my best friend known everything while I slept beside her?
“Why was he here,” I asked, “and I wasn’t?”
Ben’s jaw tightened.
“Because you left.”
A doctor and nurse rushed toward us.
The nurse lifted the fallen IV bag while the doctor checked Clara’s pulse and breathing.
“Give her space. Now.”
Ben moved only enough for the medical team to work.
He did not release her hand.
Clara looked at me for one long second.
There was heartbreak in her face.
But no surprise.
She had known this moment might come.
Ben leaned toward me, tears gathering beneath his anger.
“She was protecting you from the truth.”
The doctor ordered Clara returned to her room.
As the nurses wheeled her away, I saw the hospital wristband around her thin arm.
May you like
Beneath her name was another band.
High-risk pregnancy.
