Chapter 4

Thomas's words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken truths. The basement gym's fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows across his concerned face. Billy slept peacefully on the exercise mat, his fever finally broken, while my world threatened to shatter around me.

"Sophia." Thomas's voice was gentle but insistent. "We need to talk about what's really going on here."

I busied myself adjusting Billy's makeshift pillow, trying to avoid Thomas's concerned gaze. "There's nothing to talk about. I should get Billy back to his room..."

"Sophia!" Thomas's voice suddenly grew louder. "Why can't you see it? Henry doesn't love you at all!"

"Thomas, please..."

I wrapped my arms around myself, turning away from his piercing gaze. The truth in his words felt like shards of glass in my chest. I didn't know how to respond, at this moment, I even wanted to escape from here.

"What did you marry him for?" Thomas continued, his voice rising with emotion. "For his coldness? For the way he ignores you? For how he loves Isabella?"

"This is none of your business!" I spun around, my voice cracking. "Stay out of my life! You have no right to interfere!"

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Thomas had just saved my son's life, and here I was, lashing out at him because he'd spoken the truth I'd been avoiding for five years.

Thomas didn't back down. Instead, he moved closer, his hands reaching out as if to offer comfort. But I backed away, my shoulders hitting the cold mirror-lined wall. I couldn't bear his kindness right now, it would break what little composure I had left.

"Sophia, listen to me." His voice softened. "Divorce him. You deserve better than that jerk. There are plenty of good men in this world."

The word 'divorce' hit me like a physical blow. In five years of marriage, I'd never allowed myself to consider it. The Hardings didn't divorce, it was an unspoken rule, reinforced by what had happened to Robert Harding when he'd tried.

"He doesn't deserve you, Sophia," Thomas pressed on. "He never did."

At this moment, a small sound from the exercise mat interrupted us. Billy was stirring, his eyes fluttering open. "Mom?" he called out weakly.

I rushed to his side, grateful for the distraction. "I'm here, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"Better." He smiled, then noticed Thomas. "Dr. Sanders helped us, right?"

Thomas knelt beside us, his professional demeanor sliding back into place. "That's right, champ. And you were an excellent patient. Think you're ready to head back to your room?"

Billy nodded, and Thomas helped him sit up. As we made our way to the elevator, Billy's small hand found Thomas's, natural as breathing. The sight made my throat tight, this simple gesture of trust that Billy had never earned from his own father.

The elevator ride was quiet, broken only by Billy's occasional questions about the hospital's night shift operations. Thomas answered each one with patience and warmth, explaining complex medical concepts in terms a five-year-old could understand.

When we reached the sixteenth floor, a young nurse at the station suddenly asked, "Dr. Sanders! Are these your wife and son?"

Before I could correct her, Thomas smiled. "Aren't they lovely?"

The warmth in his voice made me blush, but another nurse approached before I could respond. "Mrs. Harding? We need you at the billing department. There's an issue with your son's medical expenses."

At the payment counter, my hands trembled as I handed over my credit card. The clerk's expression told me everything before she even spoke. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Harding, but this card has been declined. The balance is insufficient."

Shame burned through me. Of course, Henry controlled all our accounts. I had access only to a modest monthly allowance, most of which went to Billy's needs.

"Here." Thomas stepped forward, pulling out his own card. "Use this."

"No, I couldn't possibly..." I wanted to refuse.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Suddenly, Henry's cold voice cut through the air like a blade. He stood at the end of the hallway, his perfect suit at odds with the late hour, his grey eyes glacial as they took in the scene before him.

"Why are you here with another man?" he demanded, striding toward us. "Do you have any idea what this looks like?"

Thomas stepped between us, his normally gentle demeanor hardening. "What this looks like is a father who can't be bothered to check on his sick child. What this looks like is a husband who parade around with his mistress while his wife can't even pay for their son's medical care!"

"How dare you..." Henry started, but Thomas cut him off.

"No, how dare you! You're worth millions, and your wife can't afford basic medical care? You're upstairs playing devoted lover to Isabella Scott while your son has seizures?" Thomas's voice dripped with contempt. "Sophia, divorce this bastard!"

"Thomas," I grabbed his arm, my voice shaking. "Please, just go. You've helped enough."

The look Thomas gave me was full of pain and frustration, but he nodded. "Think about what I said, Sophia. You know where to find me if you need anything." He shot one last disgusted look at Henry before walking away.

Henry watched him go, his expression unreadable. Then those cold grey eyes fixed on me. "We'll discuss this at home," he said, his voice carrying that quiet threat I'd come to know so well. "For now, I suggest you remember who you are, and whose name you carry!"

As he turned and walked away, I stood there in the harsh hospital lighting, Thomas's words echoing in my mind. 'Divorce', the idea that had never seemed possible before tonight suddenly felt like a door cracking open, letting in the first hint of dawn.

However, as I watched Henry's retreating back, I knew it wouldn't be that simple.

Still, something had shifted tonight. Maybe it was seeing Henry carry Isabella through the halls, or watching Thomas care for Billy with such natural warmth, or simply reaching the end of what I could bear. Whatever it was, I couldn't un-know it now.

I made my way back to Billy's room, where he'd fallen asleep again, his fever finally gone. Outside the window, the city lights twinkled like fallen stars. Looking at my son, I fell into deep thought.

Divorce...