A Slip in the White Room

His Mask

"I'll always treat you like a queen."

He sounded so sincere that anyone could have believed him. But to me, it felt like my heart was being crushed all over again. Every word, every trace of concern he showed me was part of the lie he'd built. I used to trust him with everything I had.

"Is something the matter, Rachel?" The mask of agony I wore made him panic. He stood up. "I'll get the doctor. Wait for me. I'll be back in a minute."

He rushed out of the ward, leaving his phone behind. Silence swallowed the room, broken only by the soft hum of the machines.

Then, his phone rang, slicing through the quiet.

Slowly, I reached for it and answered.

"What took you so long, Samuel?" Meredith's voice dripped with sweetness. "Don't forget to talk to Rachel about adopting Riley. She can't have children anymore anyway.

"You don't need to keep taking those pills. And bring Riley to her once she recovers. She'll raise our child, I'm sure."

My hand tightened around the phone until my knuckles turned white. So that was why I never had a child. I'd worried about it for years, and Samuel always brushed it off. "It's not the right time," he would say. "Just wait."

Tears trickled down my cheek and drenched the pillow.

Meredith was still talking, and everything she said ripped deeper into me.

"Why are you so quiet, Samuel? Come over tonight. It's boring being alone in the ward. Play with me." Her voice was soft and needy, the kind that could melt anyone.

I grunted quietly, but just enough for her to hear. Meredith suspected nothing, so she kept on talking.

"You promised we'd go to see the aurora once I get better. We can go on vacation once you hand Riley over to Rachel."

That was it. With a shaking finger, I hung up. The screen went dark, and silence rushed back in.

Moments later, the door burst open. Samuel hurried in with the doctor, worry written all over his face. "The doctor's here. Just hold on, Rachel." He clasped my hand tightly.

My heart turned colder by the second. I watched him quietly, watched the performance unfold.

He picked me up the day I was cleared, and he was nothing short of caring the whole way.

…

The sounds of a child's laughter came from the living room.

I stood at the entrance, my eyes resting on the boy playing with his toys on the rug. He was about three, fair-skinned, and shared some resemblance with Samuel.

He looked like the kid version of the man.

Samuel stepped beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Softly, he said, "This is the boy I told you about. Riley. He's a good kid. He's ours now."

My chest tightened, but my face stayed calm. "He looks like you. You don't see that kind of resemblance often. Let's keep him."

Samuel let out a breath of relief, and his smile softened.