My breath caught in my throat as I watched him walk to his car and drive off. I followed, keeping a safe distance, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
He drove through town, eventually parking in front of a large mall. I parked a few spaces away, my heart sinking as I watched him get out and walk towards the entrance. I stayed in my car, my mind racing with questions and dread.
As I sat in my car, my mind racing with possibilities, I suddenly heard frantic knocking on my windshield. Startled, I turned to see one of my patients, a young woman named, Bella, her face streaked with tears. She was desperately begging me to help her.
"Help. Please. Please help me!" She cried, her voice muffled through the glass.
"I'm sorry. She's dunk," someone said, dragging her away from the windshield.
I quickly unlock the car door, my own trouble momentarily forgotten. But before I could get out of the car, I saw Noah coming out with a flower and a package carton of something in his hand.
Anxiety grabbed me, leaving me stagnated without knowing what choice to take. I was here to follow my husband, but Bella needed my help right now.
I watched as he walked back to his car, placed the items inside, and got in. My hands were trembling as I started my car and followed him, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and anticipation.
My heart was pounding as I trailed him through the busy streets. I kept a careful distance, my eyes locked on his car, my mind racing with questions and doubts. He had just left the mall, carrying a bouquet and a large cardboard box of packages. Who were they for? What was he up to?
We approached an intersection, and I saw the traffic light ahead turn yellow. My husband sped up and managed to pass through just as it turned red. I slammed on the brakes, my car screeching to a halt. Horns blared behind me, and I felt a rush of panic as cars swerved to avoid me.
I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw an SUV narrowly miss hitting my car. My heart raced, and for a split second, I considered giving up the chase. But I couldn't. I needed to know where he was going.
As soon as the light turned green, I floored the gas pedal, weaving through traffic to catch up. My hands were trembling, and my mind was a whirlwind of emotions: fear, anger, and determination. I spotted his car a few blocks ahead and felt a surge of relief. I hadn't lost him yet.
He turned onto a quieter street, and I followed, my eyes never leaving his taillights.
Then, to my surprise, he turned onto a street I recognized. My heart skipped a beat. This street led to the hospital where his mother was receiving treatment. Could that be where he was going after work?
I followed him into the hospital parking lot, parking a few rows behind him. I watched as he got out of his car, the flowers and box still in hand, and walked towards the hospital entrance. I felt a mix of relief and confusion. If he was visiting his mother, why had he been so secretive? Why hadn't he told me?
As I approached the elevator and reached out to press the button, my eyes caught sight of the cardboard box on the receptionist's counter. My heart ached with guilt. Here I was, suspecting the worst, while he was doing something kind and thoughtful.
I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the fourth floor, my mind a swirl of emotion with a mixture of relief and shame.
As I approached the door, I heard his voice, soft and gentle, talking to his mother. I took a deep breath before pressing the doorknob. I peeked inside and saw him sitting down beside her, holding her hand and chatting warmly.
I pause back, feeling a warm emotion wash over me.
"Mother," I said, hiding my emotion as her mother's sight caught me.
"He didn't tell me you were coming," she said softly, though her voice sounded weak.
"What brings you here?" Noah asked, leaving her mother's hand.
It takes me a while before I can find something to say. "I haven't visited for a long time," I lied.
"I know you're very busy. I guess you had some free time," she said warmly.
"How do you feel?" I asked, trying to change the atmosphere within me.
"It's always the same," she paused then continued. "I wouldn't be surprised even if I died tomorrow."
Noah stopped her from saying anything longer. "Gosh, don't say that," he said, reaching his hand to her hand.
As I was looking around the room, my eyes caught the flower on the table. "Did you buy these flowers?" I asked as I picked it up.
"Yes".
"Why did you buy flowers? They're such a waste of money," he laughed at his mother's words.
"I'll put them in a vase." I picked the flower, looking for a moment to mourn for not trusting my husband.
I left the room, my heart lighter but still heavy with the weight of my actions. I closed the door behind my back, going downstairs to get a flower vase, but my every step was heavy—the act of not trusting my husband.
I stood in the corridor, my back against the cold wall, tears streaming down my face. The relief and quilt of knowing my husband wasn't having an affair but had been visiting his sick mother overwhelmed me. I felt foolish and ashamed for doubting him and for letting my insecurities get the best of me.
I wiped my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, but the emotions were too strong. I couldn't stop the tears. Just then, I felt a warm embrace from behind. My husband's familiar scent enveloped me as he wrapped his arms around me.
"Emma. Thank you. My mom's really happy that you're here," he said softly, his voice full of gratitude.
"I haven't been able to take care of her for a long time," I continued, my voice trembling. "You should've asked me to come with you."
He smiled a bit, ruffling his hand in his hair. "I know you're busy. I didn't want to pressure you," he paused awhile, then continued. "I've been coming here for a while now. She's not doing well, so I come here almost every day."
I turned to face him; my eyes were filled with worry.
His eyes widened in surprise and then softened with understanding. "What's wrong?" He whispered with concern, pulling me closer.
It takes a while before I can find something to say. "I doubted you for a second. Elena told me you leave work at 5 pm," I continued. "But you told me you get off work at 7 p.m.."
His eyes widened in surprise. "So what? Did you think I'd be doing something behind your back?" He continued. "No way. Emma, is that why you came here?" He asked softly.
I leaned into him, my tears starting to subside. "I'm sorry. I must've lost my mind," I whispered, feeling a mix of relief and shame.
"Emma," he called softly, trying to kiss my forehead.
"Pretend you didn't hear anything. I feel so embarrassed," I said, using my hand to rub off the tears.
"Why would you be foolish enough to worry about something like that?" He kept my face on his chest, letting the tears soak his shirt.
"I'm okay now. I'm really okay now."
"Are you sure?"
I nodded. "You should go talk to your mother. I need to put the flower in a vase," I left him, going down to get a vase.
I wiped the last of my tears as I stepped away from my husband. "I'll be right back," I said, managing a small smile before heading towards the hospital's reception desk. I needed a moment to collect myself and clear my head, so I decided to get a vase for the flower my husband brought for his mother.
"Thank you for the vase," my voice still a bit shaky.
"Don't mention it. Thank you for the cake," she said with a smile, reaching under the desk and pulling out a simple but decent vase.
"Does she sleep well?" I asked, taking the vase from her.
"She's been having a hard time at night, so we started giving her more painkillers," a bit of concern washed through me. "She really missed her son. The last time he visited was on New Year's Day. He only called from time to time."