Hannah stared up at the emergency room entrance, her phone clenched in her hand. She’d never been so thankful for an intern as she was for Camila, who’d agreed to cover all shows for the weekend and take care of Binx—all free of charge. Whoever took over in Boston had better hire Camila full-time. Hannah would have to talk to Riley about it.
Hannah spotted Daniel waiting for her outside the secure entryway.
“He’s fine,” Daniel said, giving her a hug. “I think he had a panic attack and then fainted. Grayson overreacted.”
“What was he doing?”
Daniel’s eyes shifted to his hands. “He was in a private meeting with our uncle. Things have been a bit tense this week.”
She wanted to ask more questions, but it was clear that Daniel was planning on protecting Will’s privacy on the matter. She followed him through the door to the ER and attempted to prepare herself. It was no use. Seeing Will would shake loose everything she’d been keeping in, and seeing him again for the first time in a hospital bed wasn’t going to help.
Daniel pulled back the curtain on E10, a space tucked into the back corner of the room. Will looked up with contempt in his eyes and a complaint on his lips, but when his gaze panned to Hannah, he clamped his jaw shut.
A pain—both sharp and dull—settled in her stomach. He looked ashen and crushed. A fading bruise crested his cheekbone. Gone was the brightness that was innately Will’s.
“I told him not to call you,” Will said as Daniel removed his IV. Will’s voice was rusty with disuse, and the gentleness he always used in his words with her was replaced by an unfamiliar sharpness. He didn’t look at her. He kept his face downcast, watching Daniel’s hand work at the tape marks on his arm.
Daniel’s brow furrowed, and he ran a finger over the puncture site. “I told you not to play with your IV. This is going to bruise.”
“Can I go now?”
Daniel nodded. “Let me print out your paperwork.”
Will chafed at his brother’s words.
“Ten minutes max, William.”
Will lay back on his small hospital bed, a hand over his face. Hannah stood awkwardly, equally afraid to say something and stay silent. Had she done this to him?
“Are you okay?”
“You shouldn’t have come.” Even muffled by his arm, his statement was more than clear.
“I’m your wife. Of course I came.” She kept her voice steady, but she felt shaky all the same. After two weeks of silence, she hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t this.
He looked at her now, his face drawn and cynical. “We both know wife doesn’t mean what it should.”
Ouch. Someone was on the warpath.
“It still means something to me.”
He shrugged. “You being my wife didn’t seem to matter two weeks ago when you walked away.”
Hannah crossed her arms. The middle of Daniel’s ER was not the place for this conversation. “I’m invoking Rule 5.”
Whatever response Will was trying to elicit from her, he hadn’t planned for that. Hannah could literally see the effect on him as his face scrunched in consternation. He knew what Rule 5 was. Our friendship is the most important thing. No matter what, we stay friends.
WILL SORTED THROUGH his keys, his fingers finally settling on the one he wanted. He unlocked the apartment door and pushed it open without ceremony. Stale air greeted them. He had given little explanation as to why they couldn’t go back to the penthouse on the drive downtown. Hannah wanted to push the topic, an uncomfortable seed of worry rooting in her, but his mood had only slightly improved since the hospital. Instead, she had sat with her hands in her lap as they drove into Tribeca. There was so much to be said, but fighting with him then seemed like an awful idea, and she didn’t want to send him back to the hospital with a second panic attack.
“Welcome to my apartment,” Will said, stepping aside so she could enter the space.
She knew it was going to be fancy after seeing the lobby, but the sheer beauty amazed her. She couldn’t even fathom what he must pay for a space like this. A pang of jealousy ran through her. She would’ve loved living here instead of the penthouse. Binx would have never moved away from the floor-to-ceiling windows gracing the living room. The furnishings were patently Will, more so than anything she’d seen at the penthouse. Had any of it been his?
Will shuffled around in the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? I asked Clara to restock the place last week, so I’m sure there’s wine.”
“You moved back in?” she asked, picking up a figurine. A similar one had adorned Madison’s dresser in her apartment with Jon.
“No, I’m staying with Daniel right now, but I can’t do that forever. And despite what you may think, I can’t afford two rent payments.” Will offered her a glass of red wine and placed a water for himself down on the table. Annoyance came off him in waves. He didn’t want to be here. She couldn’t blame him for feeling that way, but this was his fault.
She picked up a family photo, spotting Madison in the mix. Madison sat on his lap near the beach. Her arms curved around his neck. Jon and Daniel stood behind them, arms slung casually over each other’s shoulders. Will looked different—younger, happier. There was a light expression on his face that she hadn’t seen on him since college. The truth of his relationship slammed into her more than it had after Madison’s profession of love.
“How could you not tell me?” she asked, anger backing her words despite her earlier resolve to avoid an argument.
Will took a sip of his water and looked up at her calmly through his
