“I’ll see you soon,” I said.
I ended the call and stepped away from the glass.
I had taken only ten steps when I heard Jack’s voice.
“Megan.”
He was no longer downstairs.
He stood at the opposite end of the walkway, breathing heavily, his sport coat hanging open. He must have found the escalator and sprinted all the way up.
For a brief moment, neither of us moved.
The airport carried on around us. A young boy dragged a stuffed dinosaur across the floor by its tail. An exhausted couple quietly debated a gate number. Someone nearby opened a paper bag, filling the air with the comforting smell of cinnamon and coffee.
Normal life continued uninterrupted.
Jack looked at my face before glancing at the phone in my hand.
“How long have you been here?” he asked.
“Long enough.”
His shoulders sagged.
“Megan, I can explain.”
I had heard those words countless times in television shows and novels. They always sounded predictable and desperate.
Hearing them from Jack felt different. His voice carried the detached precision of a physician, as though an explanation were another treatment he could prescribe.
“Are you performing emergency surgery?” I asked
He glanced toward the glass.
“That phone call—”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Then start there.”
He pressed a hand against his forehead. “I never should have lied.”
“Who is she?”
His gaze drifted away.
“Natalie.”
The way he quietly spoke her name hurt more deeply than I expected.
“How long?”
“Megan, this isn’t the place.”
“You’re the one who chose the place.”
Carol appeared at the far end of the walkway. Ashley followed a few steps behind, leaving the with an airport employee near the boarding gate.
Carol froze when she saw me.
Her face showed no surprise.
Only fear.
That alone told me she had immediately understood why Jack had rushed upstairs.
“Megan,” she said carefully.
I turned back to Jack. “How long?”
He lowered his voice. “Seven months.”
The airport suddenly felt as though it had shifted beneath me, but I remained standing.
Seven months.
Without meaning to, I started counting backward.
Seven months covered my birthday dinner, when Jack arrived two hours late carrying grocery-store flowers before kissing my forehead while secretly replying to messages beneath the table.
It covered Thanksgiving, when Natalie may already have occupied the hidden corner of his life while I basted a turkey for fourteen guests.
It covered the evening Carol cried in my terrified about a medical test, while I stayed beside her until midnight as Jack claimed he was reviewing patient charts.
“Does she know you’re
“Yes.”
“Does she know you told me you were operating tonight?”
He said nothing.
Carol stepped closer. “Megan, please. We can talk about this somewhere private.”
I looked directly at her.
“You watched him kiss her.”
Carol’s expression tightened.
“That wasn’t my decision.”
“No. Your decision came afterward, once you knew.”
Ashley reached us, pale and breathing hard.
“I didn’t know he told you he was working,” she said.
I stared at her.
She appeared honestly shaken, yet I no longer trusted my own judgment when it came to recognizing sincerity.
“What did you think he told me?”
Ashley looked briefly toward Jack.
“That you already knew about the trip,” she answered. “That you simply didn’t want to come.”
A quiet laugh escaped me, empty of humor.
Jack stepped nearer. “I told them we were taking some time apart.”
“We ate breakfast together this morning.”
“I know.”
“You kissed me goodbye.”
His face cracked for the briefest instant. Then the composed doctor’s expression returned—the same one he wore whenever frightened families needed someone calm enough to control the situation.
“Yes.”
“Does she know you told me you were operating tonight?”
He said nothing.
Carol stepped closer. “Megan, please. We can talk about this somewhere private.”
I looked directly at her.
“You watched him kiss her.”
Carol’s expression tightened.
“That wasn’t my decision.”
“No. Your decision came afterward, once you knew.”
Ashley reached us, pale and breathing hard.
“I didn’t know he told you he was working,” she said.
I stared at her.
She appeared honestly shaken, yet I no longer trusted my own judgment when it came to recognizing sincerity.
“What did you think he told me?”
Ashley looked briefly toward Jack.
“That you already knew about the trip,” she answered. “That you simply didn’t want to come.”
A quiet laugh escaped me, empty of humor.