When I saw Daniel Cooper at the obstetrics and gynecology department, I thought I was mistaken.
Just the night before, he had kissed me over and over, whispering that he loved me more than anything. I had even packed his suitcase myself, piece by piece, for his so-called business trip.
However, here he was, wearing the clothes I had carefully picked out for him. All while carefully supporting a young, visibly pregnant woman as they walked out of the department.
She held a medical report in her hand and said something to him. He leaned in, listening with a patience and attentiveness.
The warmth between them was palpable—anyone would have assumed they were a happy couple.
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over me, instantly extinguishing every bit of joy I had left.
I stood frozen, my eyes locking with Daniel’s. He was still smiling faintly, but that smile quickly stiffened, and panic flashed across his face.
The woman beside him turned pale the moment she saw me, clutching Daniel’s sleeve in fear.
Daniel quickly composed himself. He gently patted her hand, guiding her to a nearby waiting area and whispering something to calm her down.
When he finally walked toward me, the panic of being caught had vanished. Instead, he acted as if nothing had happened.
“What brings you to the hospital? Are you feeling all right?”
He reached out to touch my face, but I took a step back to avoid his touch.
“Explain yourself,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.
In my mind, I was pleading, “Daniel, please tell me that this is just a misunderstanding. If you say it, I’ll believe you.”
