He never asked whether I’d managed to sleep, or how much it hurt when the nurses had to move me.

Even so, I waited.

Chapter 4 — The Man at the Foot of the Bed

When the door finally opened and Vincent stepped in, relief filled me before reason could catch up.

For one moment I saw only the man I’d been married to for eleven years. Then I saw his face.

He walked in like someone collecting an unpaid debt. “Enough with this nonsense, Erin,” he said from the foot of the bed.

His shirt was pressed, and I could smell his expensive cologne before he reached me.