Chapter 3 - The Wait Outside
Forty minutes later, I unlocked the examination door and stepped back into the clinic hallway.
Sophia was gone, but Alexander was still there.
He hadn't sat in the waiting room chairs, and he hadn't checked his phone.
He stood leaning against the wall opposite my door, his hands jammed deep into his coat pockets, his hair slightly rumpled.
When he saw me emerge holding my leather handbag and medical folder, he straightened up instantly.
"Claire," he murmured, his eyes scanning my face with desperate hunger.
I didn't answer; I turned toward the elevators, walking briskly down the corridor.
Alexander fell into step beside me, matching his long strides to my slower, careful pace.
"Let me drive you home," he offered softly. "It's freezing outside, and there's a sleet storm coming in from the lake."
"I have a monthly train pass, Alexander," I said, not looking at him as I pressed the elevator call button.
"You're six months pregnant! You shouldn't be riding the commuter train in the winter!"
"I've been riding it for six months without your permission, and I've survived just fine."
The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open.
I stepped inside, turning around to face him.
Alexander stepped in right behind me, blocking the closing doors with his broad shoulder.
The elevator descended in heavy, agonizing silence, the mechanical hum vibrating through the floor.
"Why didn't you tell me, Claire?" he asked suddenly, his voice thick with suppressed agony.
"Even if you were furious with me... even if you hated me... that child is a Moretti."
"I had a right to know."
I let out a short, bitter laugh that felt like dry glass in my throat.
"A right, Alexander?" I looked up into his tormented gray eyes.
"You spent five years telling me that our marriage had to be hidden because your enemies might target me."
"You told me that public affection was a weakness in your world."
"I accepted living like a phantom in your penthouse because I believed you were trying to protect me."
The elevator hit the ground floor with a soft chime.
"Then Sophia came home," I continued, stepping out into the bustling hospital lobby.
"And within five minutes, you pulled off your wedding ring in front of your friends."
"You held her in your arms in front of two hundred guests, laughing, smiling, showing everyone the love you denied me for half a decade."
"You didn't hide your marriage because of enemies, Alexander."
"You hid it because you were saving your public life for her."
Alexander grabbed my wrist—gently, so gently that his fingers barely grazed my pulse point, but he held on as if letting go would kill him.
"That wasn't it, Claire! I swear on my life, that wasn't it!" he choked out, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Sophia was an obligation! Her father saved my grandfather from a federal indictment ten years ago!"
"Her family expected a public welcome! I took off the ring because I was stupid, cowardly, and terrified of reopening an old debt!"
"I didn't love her, Claire! I haven't loved her since the day I met you!"
I looked down at his hand holding my wrist, then slowly pulled my arm away from his grip.
"It doesn't matter what you felt, Alexander," I whispered softly.
May you like
"It matters what you did."
"And what you did was tell me, in front of the entire city, that I was disposable."
