Lost Love, Bitter Victory

her text arrived from

g to see him. It's hard to explain t

was enjoying this, peeling back the layers of Olivia'

the birthing center," she said, applying her lipstick with a steady hand. "A crisis at the n

former mentor, a brilliant but volatile architect who had a falling out with their firm years ag

my cheek. "I'll be back this even

e hung in the air, a scent I once

remembered a follow-up appointment I had scheduled with a urologist months ago, one I had canceled because Olivia insisted we

ng beneath me. Dr. Ramirez came in, a file in his ha

I have to say, they confirm my initial assessment from last year. There is absolutely nothi

. My wife's clinic... they said the chances were almost zero. The

ould tell you that. Based on every test I've ever run on you, there is no

I was broken, that I was the cause of our shared pain. She had used my own guilt over her accident as a cage to keep me com

e. The city streets felt unreal, th

ed," she announced, dropping her briefcase by the door. "David is a ch

omach turn. She stayed for less than an hou

ic. "We have to pull an all-nighter to meet the deadline.

that, she wa

y phone buzzed.

ext. It was a picture me

nd was Olivia, on her knees, wiping ice cream from the boy's face with a napkin. The third was the three of them-Olivia, David, and the

he images over and over. I was torturing myself, burning the images into my brain. This was her real life. The

sage came through

mbled as I p

om, not ours. Olivia was there, her face contorted in a rage I had n

this, David! You can't

id's voice came from off-camer

from a table and hurled it against the wall, where it shat

thing inside me. This wasn't just a lie. It was a dark, toxic mess. And

the hardwood floor. A strangled sob e

t to ours opened. Mrs. Gable, a swe

voice filled with concern. "Is ev

n the floor, surrounded by the ruins of