The next day, I went to the hospital for a checkup.

I overheard nurses talking in hushed, envious tones: "Mr. Parker and his wife are so in love. He does everything for her."

"Yeah, I hope I can find a husband like that someday."

I didn't react.

As if they weren't talking about my husband.

Leaving the hospital, I ran into Tom and Sarah.

They were smiling and laughing about something.

When Tom saw me, his smile faded.

He frowned.

"Lisa, what are you doing here?"

I glanced at them, my voice flat. "Is the hospital yours? Can't I come?"

Tom rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed. "I couldn't make it back yesterday. Do you have to follow me to the hospital?"

I folded the report.

It said I had a concussion.

I didn't feel like arguing with them.

I turned to leave.

Just then, a group of teenagers came running around the corner.

They were about to crash into us.

Sarah shrieked.

Tom shielded her, knocking me off balance.

My head hit the wall again.

I saw stars.

"Are you okay?"

Tom was anxiously asking Sarah.

Sarah wrapped her hands around Tom's chest.

"Thank you, Tom."

Tom sighed in relief, then turned to me.

He stared.

He looked angry.

"Lisa, I told you to stay home and rest! You wouldn't listen, so now you've almost gotten Sarah hurt!"

"I'll take Sarah back to her room, then I'll take you home."

I forced a laugh.

Dizzy, I stood up. "Don't worry about it. You take care of Sarah."

Tom scoffed, "This is all your fault!"

I ignored him and got another appointment.

I wondered if I had worsened my concussion.

On the way out, I saw Tom at the main entrance.

He was holding a square red box.

He saw me and walked over, his attitude much better than before.

"I'm sorry I snapped. Here, this is for you. You always wanted a silk scarf."

He opened the box, showing a silk scarf.

I'd seen the scarf at home.

There used to be a card in the box, signed Sarah.

I laughed.

Tom was really something.

Sarah didn't want it, so he gave it to me.

I didn't take it. "When things get back to normal, let's get divorced."

Tom was losing patience.

"Lisa, you're not getting any younger. Don't start drama. The neighbors will laugh."

"Are you upset because I've been taking care of Sarah? I'm giving you an out here, don't play mind games with me." Tom scoffed. "Have you forgotten how you chased me? Fine, get a divorce. But don't come crying to me."

He left.

I stood there for a while, staring at the sunset.

Tom was right.

I did chase him.

But I never knew he had someone else in his heart.

A few months ago, I found an old cardboard box.

Inside were five hundred love letters.

Every one was to Mike's widow, Sarah.

They'd been together, then broke up.

The earthquake made everything clear.

I went to the bank.

I planned to withdraw my share of our joint assets.

The teller said the money had been withdrawn a month earlier.

I stared at the bank statement, collapsing into my chair.

Tom had used the insurance payout from our son's accident.

To pay for Sarah's heart surgery?