I stopped at one of our wedding pictures. I was smiling, my eyes closed, touching his face. He was looking at me as if I were his entire world.
I didn’t look at Nigel again.
My chest tightened.
I walked into his office and opened drawers with shaking hands.
If he’d lied about this, what else had he hidden?
Then I found stacks of research. Medical journals. Surgical sketches. Notes filled with dates from years before we started dating. My name was written on a folder from nearly 15 years earlier!
I sank into his chair and called my best friend, Lydia.
Then I found stacks of research.
“You won’t believe this,” I said.
“What happened?”
“I can see. The surgery worked!”
She gasped. “That’s incredible!”
“It was Nigel,” I said flatly. “He’s the boy who pushed me. He knew the whole time. I feel betrayed, and I’m thinking of divorce. I can’t trust this man.”
