The Substitute Wife's Spectacular Comeback

ade sl

he surface and sliced into her left palm. The pain didn't register immediately. It was a clean, sharp bite, f

ping the knife. It clattere

he grabbed the hem of her oversized flannel shirt and pressed it hard against the wound. The white cotton

contact name without thinking. Bentley. It was instinct. Three yea

tic crackled in the backgrou

smooth, but held a slight echo, like he w

e wanted it to be. She watched a drop of blood fall

ned, shifting into the C

d. The

ackground. "I'm in Chicago. The merger dinner just ended. I can't be

, the sting of tears mixing with the throb

lex is in the city and will

ld floor. She pressed her knee against her wounded hand, applying pressure, watching th

pen. Alex Vance stood there in his tailored black o

didn't speak. He just drove, the partition raised between them. When they arrived, he escorted he

brisk hands and kind eyes, me

age. She winced sympathetically. "Deep, but clean. You're lucky.

thetic doing little to quell the sickening feeling in her st

s. "I see a lot of you guys in here. Carpal tunnel, slice wounds. Y

around her palm. Two weeks without drawing. Two wee

sliding off the table. "I n

leanor said, already turning to the

ns toward the pharmacy, her footsteps echoing. As she turned the corner toward the elevator bank, she noticed a shift in the atmospher

patients. As she passed the room at the very end of the hall, the door was

s okay. I

inst her ribs. That cadence. That low, soothing rumble. It was th

ing with his back to her. He was wearing a charcoal suit-she recognized the cut, she had picked it out. He w

hair, the features delicate and fragile. It was her face. Or rather, a version of her face that

. The look on his face-raw, agonizing, desperate-was something

ck, her shoulder hitting the fire alarm box on the

. His eyes, sharp and ale

lled the door shut, leaving just a crack to see through. The closet smelled of bleach and stale linens. She pressed her back a

llway, his posture rigid. He looked left, then right, his jaw

one vibrated in her hand.

She had to answer. If she didn't, he would know something wa

e could also hear it echoing faintly from

anding ten feet away, his phone pressed to h

her voice barely a whi

sture relaxing slightly. "The dinner ran late. I'm just

ad. He was standing right there.

t felt like sandpaper. "I'm

" he said softl

hed his lips move, but the warmth in his voice was a performance. He w

she said,

into the hospital room, closing the door behind h

sob that tore through her chest. The pain in her hand was nothing compared to the crushing weight on her lungs. She sat there

t again. Long enough for the tears to dry into sticky tracks on her cheeks. Wh

down in sheets when she stepped outside, washing over the city. She didn't hail a cab