VIP Suite
“What’s on your mind, Soren?”
Poppy gazed at the tall, refined figure standing by the window.
He’d been quiet ever since they returned to the hospital room, lost in thoughts she couldn’t read.
“Nothing,” Soren said, snapping out of his reverie.
He crossed the room with those long, purposeful strides and stopped at her bedside. As he turned, he seemed to completely ignore the frail figure struggling along the sidewalk below.
Soren reached down, smoothing the edge of her blanket with practiced care.
The silk felt cool and luxurious beneath her fingers, and Poppy couldn’t help but smile. He’d insisted on having this special comforter rushed in just for her, worried the hospital’s standard issue wouldn’t be warm or soft enough. He’d even arranged for a television to be installed at her bedside, just so she wouldn’t be bored during her stay.
The thought left her with a gentle warmth in her chest.
But then, unbidden, an image flashed through her mind–Evangeline, pale and disheveled, lingering awkwardly in the doorway just a short while ago.
Poppy’s smile faded. On impulse, she reached up, wanting to cup Soren’s face in her
hands.
But he, as if anticipating her, leaned away.
Her hand hovered in the air, suspended, and she felt a flush of embarrassment.
Soren pretended not to notice, his tone casual as he asked, “So, how long are you planning to stay here this time?”
Poppy felt a twinge of defeat.
She could never quite figure him out. Soren was always considerate, remembering even the smallest details about her–her favorite snacks, even the dates of her cycle–yet he kept her at arm’s length, never letting her get too close.
Forcing down her frustration, she grinned, teasing, “Well, when do you want me to leave?”
Soren didn’t answer. But she could read his silence. Poppy let out a soft laugh! not planning to go back this time. After all, the person I care about most is still here.”
She stared at him, not blinking.
Soren looked uneasy. He stood up, avoiding her gaze. “Don’t start, Poppy: I’m already married.”
“But you don’t love her, do you?”
She didn’t wait for his reply. Taking a steadying breath, she pressed on, “Soren, if you don’t love Evangeline, have you ever thought about getting a divorce?”
A shadow flickered in Soren’s eyes.
A sudden, restless irritation gnawed at him. He recalled Evangeline’s words earlier: asking for a divorce.
The memory made him scoff.
“This marriage will end,” he said coldly. “But not yet. It’s not the right time.”
After everything she’d put him through, letting her walk away now would be letting her off far too easily.
Besides, would she really be willing to end it? What a joke.
Unless she’d been knocked senseless in that car accident, she’d never dare make
such a choice.
Car accident?
The thought froze Soren’s sneer.
Thinking back, her attitude earlier really had been different. Was it possible she’d been hurt more badly than he realized? Had she injured her head?
The idea unsettled him. Restless, Soren muttered an excuse and left Poppy’s room.
He headed upstairs, searching for the room number Evangeline had mentioned on the phone. But when he looked inside, she was nowhere to be seen.
The room was empty except for two nurses tidying up.
“Where’s the patient who was here?” Soren asked.
One of the nurses glanced up, confused. “Pretty sure she’s already been discharged.”
521:001
Discharged? So she wasn’t even hurt that bad after all.
Soren almost laughed at himself racing up here like some worried idiot for
nothing.
He turned to leave.
But then the other nurse spoke up, her tone low. “That poor woman. Survived a car crash and lost her baby, just barely made it through, and then got thrown out of the hospital right after.”
Soren stopped in his tracks, his gaze fixed sharply on the nurse.
“What did you say?” he demanded. “She lost her baby?”
21.03
