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Abby Langdon hurries through the rain and into the ER—the Pitt, as her soon-to-be ex-husband calls it—with a thousand pounds on her heart. Maybe it’s not right to do this while he’s at work. She understands how difficult his job is. But anywhere else, and she’s afraid she’ll lose her nerve. Here, he won’t have time to fight her on this. She’s had all the time in the world to think about it. Even though the decision came down to her heart, not her head.
Lupe lets her through the doors into the center. A familiar face framed by white blonde hair greets her at the nurse’s station.
“Hey, Abby,” Dana says with that warm smile of hers.
Abby tries to return the gesture, but can’t make it reach her eyes. “Hey, Dana. Is Frank around?”
“Yeah, I think he’s in the break room,” Dana replies. Her brows furrow over her glasses. “Is everything okay? Are you hurt? Are the kids—”
“No, nothing like that,” Abby says quickly. “I just have to give him something.”
Dana’s eyes are searching. Knowing. “Okay. Well, try the break room. If he’s not there, ask around. I’m sure someone’s seen him.”
Abby nods, takes a deep breath, and walks the familiar path. She’s only visited Frank at work a handful of times. He’s too busy for her to get any quality time with him there, so she stopped trying. But for over a year now, he’s as distant at home as he was in those snippets of time. She can’t recall the last meaningful conversation they had since he confessed to her and started rehab.
It’s all so heavy. She’s shouldering the weight of their marriage, but now her legs are too wobbly to take another step forward.
She stops at the break room door and peeks through the window. Frank is there, sitting at a table with a young woman in glasses and a braid down her back. Another doctor, according to the badge on her shirt. And they’re laughing.
When was the last time Frank laughed with me? Abby wonders.
And she’s certain he’s never looked at her with the warmth in his eyes directed at this other doctor. Not even on their wedding day. The smile he’s giving his colleague is the kind she wishes were reserved for her. Their hands inch closer on the table, drawn together like magnets, but not quite touching. Tiny gestures that speak volumes. The kind she ached for, but never could get from him.
Because—as much as it breaks her heart—they were never meant for her.
Even though she’s the one with the ring on her finger and his children waiting for her at home, she feels she’s intruding on this moment between them. In an instant, with a single look, she is demoted to the other woman. The obstacle standing between obvious soulmates.
Frank turns his head, catches her eye through the glass, and pales. The moment disturbed, Abby pushes the door open and walks through. He gets to his feet, running a hand through his hair as he glances between her and the doctor at the table, who also stands.
“Abby,” he says. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t panic, I’m only here to drop something off with you,” she answers.
“Okay, sure.” He looks back at the other doctor. “Mel, could you give us a minute?”
Abby holds her breath to keep from gasping. Even the way he says this woman’s name has more affection in it than anything he’s said to Abby.
Mel nods, starts for the door, and stops herself before turning back around and meeting Abby’s gaze.
“Hi,” she says. “I’m Mel. Or Dr. King, but everyone calls me Mel.”
Abby offers a hand. “Abby. It’s nice to meet you.”
She means it. Mel seems sweet. And it’s not her fault that Frank is in love with her.
“You too,” Mel replies, shaking hands. She casts one last glance at Frank before she speaks again. “I’ll, uh, leave you two to talk.”
She sweeps from the room. Abby and Frank remain in silence until the door snicks shut.
“What’s up, Abs?” he asks.
She reaches into her tote bag and withdraws a large tan envelope, spotted with rain droplets, which she holds out to him. He doesn’t take it. His gaze bounces from it to her face a few times until he lands on her face.
“What is this?” he demands, an edge to his voice.
“I think you know,” she replies.
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Frank—”
“No, Abby, listen to me. We can work on things. I’ll do better. I’ll—”
“Frank,” she cuts him off. “We can’t go on like this. You and I both know we’ve given it everything we have. But it’s not enough. Not when your heart is somewhere else.”
He draws back as if she swung at him. “What?”
“I saw how you looked at Mel,” she says. “And any hesitation I had about giving you these papers is gone.”
He narrows his eyes at her. “You think I’m having an affair with Mel?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t think you’ve so much as kissed. You’re a lot of things, Frank Langdon, but a bad guy is not one of them. And I know you wouldn’t betray me.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I know I’m not ‘the one,’” she says. It’s a relief to admit it after years of attempting to convince herself they were already in love when she got pregnant. “I never was. And because I care about you, the kindest thing I can do is let you go.”
Her eyes sting with hot moisture, but she blinks it away. She can’t let herself fall apart or he’ll mistake it for regret. She forces the papers into his hands.
“Clinging to this…to us,” she says. “It’s not fair to you or me.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions,” he protests, shaking his head as his gaze drops to the floor. “Mel and I are—”
“Just friends?” she finishes. “I’ve never had a friend look at me like that, Frank. And if I did, you’d have a problem.”
He blows out a sigh and rolls his eyes. “Come on.”
“Look at me.”
Their gazes lock, and even now, when he’s asking her to stay, he doesn’t have the tenderness behind those blue irises that he had with Mel.
“Look me in the eyes and deny it,” she dares him. “If you can honestly tell me you don’t have feelings for her, I’ll take these papers back, we’ll go to therapy again and give it one last shot. So go ahead. Say it.”
His eyes dart around her face, searching for a bluff he can call. But she no longer has anything to lose when it comes to him. He opens his mouth. Closes it again. No sound comes out. He doesn’t have words. A hammer comes down to secure the final nail in the coffin of their marriage.
“It’s okay,” she says, voice breaking through the rust in her throat. “I’m not angry.”
“You’d be justified if you were,” he replies, hanging his head.
“But I’m not,” she insists. “I know that you care about me. Just…not the way you care about her.”
He lifts his gaze back to her. “You’re my wife.”
“That’s not the same as being the love of your life.”
Several beats of silence pass between them. Words exchanged through their eyes that come from years of living together and raising children. She knows he’s sorry. She knows she is important to him. She knows he will always be in her life. But it won’t be what it was.
“I, uh…” He trails off, pauses, and sniffs. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say okay,” she replies. “Take the papers, and say okay.”
He pulls them into his chest. His ring catches the light and gleams.
“Okay,” he sighs.
The sound of the door clicking open draws both their attention. Mel pokes her head in. Frank’s whole expression lightens at the sight of her. The devastation in his eyes, gone for a fleeting moment. His shoulders relaxed. Because of her.
“Dr. Langdon, we need you in trauma two,” she says. “I’m sorry, I tried to get Robby, but he’s super tied up right now, and—”
“I’ll be right there,” he tells her gently.
She nods and disappears.
Abby faces him, a melancholy smile parting her lips. “I’ll go now.”
“You can stay. We can take another minute.”
She shakes her head. “I think we’ve said everything we need to say. I’m gonna stay with my parents for a little while, but you can come see the kids whenever you want, okay? I don’t want this to be…messy.”
“Of course,” he agrees. “I’ll text you later.”
“Yeah.”
Another beat passes.
“I’ll see you later, Frank,” she says. “I think she’ll make you really happy.”
The corners of his mouth twitch upward before he schools his face back to neutral and nods. She lets out a breath, secures her tote bag, and pauses.
“Oh, Frank?” she says over her shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“There is one thing you could do for me that would make this easier.”
He straightens his shoulders. “Anything.”
“Keep that fucking dog at your place.”
“You got it,” he says on a half-laugh.
With one last smile, she walks out of the break room. She told herself she was setting him free, but somehow, she feels lighter too. When she walks through the exit, the sun warms her face.