「Lena, let's talk.」

Harvey set the thermos on the nightstand and twisted off the lid.

Fish congee, plain and light.

It used to be my favorite thing he made.

He moved slowly, holding the spoon out to me.

「Joyce just fell asleep, so I came to check on you.」

I didn't take it.

「Dr. James must be busy.」

His brows drew down.

「I know you're upset, but don't talk to me like that.」

I looked at the bowl of congee.

The fish was sliced thin, the ginger picked out clean.

「Is bringing congee the only reason you came?」

Harvey sat down in the chair by the bed, his voice gentling.

「Transferring you to the other branch was thoughtless of me. If you're not comfortable there, I'll move you back tomorrow.」

A day earlier, that line might have softened me.

But my phone was still open on Joyce's posts.

I asked, : 「And after I move back? You'll keep avoiding Joyce?」

He said nothing.

I gave a small laugh.

「See? You won't even lie to me once.」

Harvey raised a hand and pressed at the space between his brows.

「Joyce has no family here. She saved my life.」

I'd heard this so many times.

Joyce saved him. So when she's scared of the dark he stays with her, when she has a follow-up he watches over it himself.

And I'm supposed to understand, supposed to step aside, supposed to be considerate of that 「bond forged through life and death.」

I said, : 「Then what about our child?」

Harvey's fingers went stiff.

「Lena.」

「It never saved your life, so it didn't matter?」

His face changed.

「Don't say things like that.」

「Then how should I say it?」 I looked up at him. 「That it was just unlucky, that it happened to clash with Joyce's checkup?」

Harvey stood up, his voice dropping lower.

「You're not in a stable state right now. I won't argue with you.」

The moment I open my mouth, I'm not in a stable state.

I pushed back the blanket and got out of bed, the IV stand dragging with a faint rattle.

Harvey reached out to steady me.

I moved away.

His hand hung in the air, then drew back slowly.

「Where are you going?」

「The bathroom.」

「I'll help you.」

「No need.」

I walked slowly, my lower belly heavy and aching.

I'd barely reached the door when Joyce's call came in.

Harvey glanced at it and answered on instinct.

「What is it?」

His tone tightened all at once.

「Don't cry, I'm coming right back.」

He hung up and looked at me.

「Joyce woke up and couldn't find me. She's a little broken up. I'll go back first and come again tomorrow.」

I held on to the door frame.

「Harvey.」

He stopped.

I asked, : 「If I told you I'm in pain right now too, would you stay?」

Something struggled in his eyes.

Brief.

Brief enough to feel imagined.

「The nurse is right outside. Ring the bell.」

He picked up his coat and headed out, and I heard him add one more thing.

「Stop using your body to sulk.」

The room went quiet again.

The bowl of fish congee was still steaming.

I walked over and put the lid back on.

The next morning, the nursing office called.

「Your residency application to Southport — Dr. James says it won't be approved for now.」

I gripped my phone.

「On what grounds?」

「You just had a miscarriage. You're not fit for it physically or mentally, and your marital situation needs to be watched too.」

I closed my eyes for a moment.

「I understand.」

A message came in from Harvey: : 「Let the residency wait for now. Don't do anything rash. Once you're better, I'll take you somewhere to clear your head.」

Clear my head.

He always liked to slap a pretty bandage over a wound. Whether or not it was festering underneath.

That afternoon I went back to the department for my file, and as I reached the door I heard people talking.

"I heard the Southport residency slot went to Joyce Fox."

"She's not even a nurse."

"They'll list her as a research assistant. One word from Dr. James and it's done."

I pushed the door open, and the voices cut off.

A recommendation form lay on the desk. The applicant line read Joyce Fox. The recommending physician was Harvey James.

I reached out and picked it up.

The edge of the paper sliced across my fingertip, a small sting.

Harvey's voice came from behind me.

"Put it down."

I didn't.

He crossed the room and pulled the form out of my hand.

"This is a hospital program. Not something you can just read."

I looked at him.

"The Southport residency slot. The nursing office gave it to me first."

"I know."

He said it too calmly.

"You know?"

Harvey closed the form and slid it into a folder.

"Lena, you're not in any shape for a residency right now. Joyce being on my research team will help her recover."

Recover.

Mild anemia needs to recover.

Anxiety needs to recover.

And on the third day after I lost the baby, he decided for me that I couldn't go, and cleared the path for Joyce.

I asked, "What gives you the right to refuse for me?"

Harvey looked at me.

"The fact that I'm your husband. And one of your attending physicians. No one knows your condition better than I do."

"Then do you remember my post-op instructions?"

He frowned.

"Don't change the subject."

"No red dates. No standing for long. No catching cold." I said. "But when Joyce brought me oatmeal with red dates in it, you told me not to make a face. And now you've got me standing here, talking to me about her residency."

A few nurses lowered their heads.

Harvey's expression darkened.

"Don't bring household matters into the office."

"So you do still know this counts as a household matter."

Heels clicked at the doorway.

Joyce came in with a stack of papers, saw me, and stopped short.

"Lena, please don't misunderstand. If I'd known you wanted it too, I'd have turned it down."

She held the papers out toward me as she spoke.

"Really. I'll tear it up right now."

Harvey caught her hand.

"Don't."

Tears spilled down Joyce's face.

"Harvey, I don't want the two of you fighting over me."

Harvey didn't argue with her.

He only looked at me, his voice low.

"Go back to your room. We'll talk when you've calmed down."

I didn't move.

My phone buzzed once in my pocket.

I put a hand on the edge of the desk to steady myself, and my fingers brushed a photo frame.

It was last year's group photo, the one for the hospital's outstanding department award.

I was standing next to Harvey, a faint smile on my face.

That day, in front of everyone, he'd said, "My wife is the most reliable support I have."

Joyce suddenly lifted a hand to wipe her tears, and her cuff caught the edge of the desk.

The frame fell to the floor.

The glass broke open.

A long scratch tore across the photo too, right down the middle, between me and Harvey.

She crouched down in a panic.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

I crouched down to pick it up as well.

My fingertip touched the broken glass, and blood welled up at once.

Harvey steadied Joyce first.

"Don't touch it. You'll cut yourself."

Joyce looked at me, timid.

"You're bleeding."

Only then did Harvey look down.

He reached out to take my hand.

I drew it back.

"There's no need."

He lowered his voice.

"Lena. Don't embarrass me here."

I stood up, holding the cracked photo.

"Harvey. Let's go to the courthouse Monday."

The office went quiet enough to hear the hum of the air conditioner.

Joyce froze, but for one instant, something bright flickered in her eyes that she couldn't quite hide.

Harvey stared at me.

"What did you say?"

"Divorce."

His face went cold all the way through.

"Lena, you just had a miscarriage. You're not stable right now. Don't throw the word divorce around like a threat."

I looked at him.

"I'm not threatening you."

"Then what do you want?" He was still being patient. "The slot? I can fight for it again next year. A child? Once you've recovered, we'll have another."

A ringing started in my ears.

A child.

The baby who'd never gotten its father's signature, and he was talking about it like something you could just buy again.

The photo crumpled in my hand.

Joyce said, "Don't be like this. The baby's gone. Harvey's hurting too. Forcing him to divorce now, isn't that just punishing him?"

Harvey didn't argue with her.

He only looked at me, his voice low.

"Go back to your room. We'll talk when you've calmed down."

I didn't move.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

A message from my old mentor at Southport: "Got the security footage backup you wanted. Last night, in the corridor outside the ER — Harvey actually came. He just took a call from Joyce at the door and left again."

So it wasn't that he hadn't made it in time.

He'd been there.

And he'd left.

I lifted my head and looked at him.

He was still waiting for me to back down.

I set the cracked wedding photo back on the desk, the blood on my fingertips smearing beside his name badge.

"There's nothing to talk about."

Harvey reached out to grab my wrist.

I stepped back.

Behind me, the elevator opened with a soft chime.

The people from the hospital ethics board stepped out with a folder.

"Dr. James, regarding last night's delayed emergency authorization and the patient complaint, we need you to cooperate with an investigation."

Harvey's hand stopped in midair.

The ethics officer stood in the doorway, polite in tone but giving no ground.

"Dr. James, is now a good time?"