Chapter 35 – Maura
MAURA
“Are you comfortable?” the flight attendant asks, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Can I get you a blanket or a snack?”
I sink back into my seat, annoyed. She knows I’m sick, I can tell. She's the same flight attendant we had on the trip here, and while she was polite the first time, now she's hovering. Coddling, like I'm a toddler afraid of flying.
I should've known this would happen. Once one person knows that you’re sick, word tends to spread. I’m sure James informed his entire staff of my condition. He’ll probably tell all his friends next, and then all my friends will know. Just like that, I’ll be the sick girl again.
Since our wedding, I've been living in a fantasy world, one where I exist as more than just a sick girl. I was a wife, a friend, a respected artist. Now, I'm just this fragile porcelain doll that everyone has to avoid upsetting.
“Anything?” the flight attendant says, worry creeping into her eyes.
“I’m fine, thanks.” I force a smile.
“If you need anything, anything at all, just press the call button,” she says. Then she points to it, like I’m too stupid to find it for myself.
I slump down in my chair when she finally disappears to the back of the plane. I know none of this is her fault. She's just treating me the way her boss—James—wants her to.
Thankfully, when I pull out my phone, it’s connecting perfectly to the plane’s WiFi. I should probably send the girls a text, letting them know I was in the hospital. At least this way, I can control the narrative.
Maura
Don’t freak out. I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know I had a minor medical incident in Greece and had a brief stay in a hospital. I’m on my way home now.
Brinley
WHAT DO YOU MEAN, DON’T FREAK OUT????
Brinley
YOU CAN’T SAY THE WORD HOSPITAL AND EXPECT ME TO NOT FREAK OUT.
Cat
What happened?? How are you feeling??
Maura
I collapsed on a hike. I pushed myself a little too hard, that’s all. I should have drunk more water.
Pippa
You ended up in the hospital for days for…dehydration?
I rub my forehead. I should have known her journalistic instincts would spot the poor cover-up.
Maura
Long story short: I have a preexisting condition. It was just a bad combo. Again, I’m fine.
Another text comes in. This time, it’s just from Brinley, outside the girls group chat.
Brinley
I’m glad you’re coming home, but are you really okay? I want all the details you’re comfortable giving me. If you want to keep things to yourself, that’s fair, too, I’m just being a worrywart.
My mouth softens. Brinley doesn’t give her affection easily. I don’t know what made her put her guard up so high, but I do know I was lucky to get to the other side of it. She really cares about me—sometimes to a fault.
She’s earned the truth, and I trust her with it.
Maura
I have a heart condition. It’s mostly under control now, but it’s serious. I’ve dealt with it a long time, and it’ll be something I’m always dealing with. I haven’t brought it up before because people treat me differently once they know, and I didn’t want that from you.
I take a deep breath and finally press send. I gaze out the window, waiting for her answer. After a few minutes, my phone vibrates.
Brinley
I get it, and thank you for telling me. I’ll do my best not to change anything, but if I ever make you uncomfortable, call me out. I love you <3
My heart fills with warmth. It’s such a Brinley answer—thoughtful, honest, and loving. Exactly what I could hope to hear. It makes me wonder why it took me so long to tell her.
It also gives me the courage I need to send the next text.
Maura
Can you do me a favor and spread the news to Cat and Pippa? I’m too tired to have a whole conversation about it.
Brinley
Will do, chief.
Sighing, I sit back against my chair. I still have the pregnancy news to share, but I’ll worry about that later, once I’m further along. For now, at least I have one big secret off my chest.
I glance over at my husband, sitting quietly across the aisle, working on his laptop. His jaw still clenched tightly, his shoulders almost hunched with fatigue. The last few days have obviously taken their toll on him.
I stayed in the clinic for almost a week, before Dr. Dimakos cleared me to fly.
My days there were spent mostly alone, while James hopped a ferry to Athens to take his meetings.
Occasionally, Kostos stopped by with his wife, always bringing me an interesting stone to examine.
I’m guessing that the amount of money James dropped at the quarry endeared us to him.
James didn’t abandon me, though. I know he came back to the clinic at night and slept on the chair, because the nurses told me. He never showed up when I was awake. That may have been by design. I can’t imagine he wanted to talk to me after our argument.
To be fair, though, he might just have been busy with work and the commute, a small part of my brain reminds me.
There’s also the baby.
I’m more than ready to be a mother. Part of me wishes I could just skip ahead to my baby being here, while another part is excited to cherish the whole journey of pregnancy.
I have no idea how James feels. He agreed to having a child, but he might not know how he feels yet about actually being a father.
Maybe he wants to work out those feelings instead of tarnishing my full, unvarnished joy.
Across the aisle, James closes his laptop and massages his temple, like he has a headache coming on.
I sigh. Maybe I've been too harsh on him. He might not have even told the flight attendant I’m sick.
She could've figured it out when she met the flight nurse, who’s been quietly sitting in the back, just in case I need her.
I don’t even want to know how much James had to pay for that.
I might be frustrated with James, but I'm more annoyed at myself. My body betrayed me, yet again. It couldn't handle a simple hike. And now, I'm not the only one it’s responsible for. My traitorous body has to keep a baby safe, and I don’t know if it can.
My hand goes instinctively to my stomach. I'm impatient to see an ultrasound or hear the baby’s heartbeat. I want to see every kind of proof I can that it's really here. That I'm really going to be a mother. I almost smile at the irony that for once, I’m excited about a doctor’s appointment.
James clears his throat and asks my least favorite question. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“I just remember you were anxious on the flight over here.”
“That was the turbulence. It's all smooth sailing now. So yeah, I’m fine.”
Silence. I glance back at the in-flight nurse. She's pointedly flipping through a magazine, pretending she can't hear us. I hope James paid her extra for her discretion.
“I believe I misspoke the other day,” James says finally.
I raise my brows. “You'll have to be more specific.”
His hand grips the armrest so tight, his knuckles turned white. “When I was talking about risk profiles.”
“And how I didn’t disclose mine,” I finish.
“Does any part of you think you should have?” His eyes bore into mine, demanding an answer. I cross my arms defensively.
“You’re not entitled to know everything about me, James. I read the marriage contract. No part of it required me to share information about my personal life with you. My health is my business, and I get to decide who knows about it.”
“But it is my business. You’re my wife! If I’d known, I could have—”
“Refused to marry me.”
His mouth tightens, and his eyes flash with an emotion I can’t name. “No. I could have made different decisions. I would have guaranteed your safety in the contract and fulfilled that promise. I would make sure you and the baby weren’t put at risk. I failed to think about my family’s future.”
“Right. Because your ideal family wouldn’t have a sick woman in it.” Of course, that's what he imagined. A woman who could raise his child for longer than a few mere years. It's what anyone would hope for.
“Ideally, you wouldn't be sick at all,” he snaps.
An icy, corrosive anger seeps into my veins.
There it is—the truth. He resents me for being sick.
He wouldn't be the first man to feel that way.
I remember Victor's face when Dr. Makovich told us I would need open heart surgery.
I can still see the way his lip curled up at the edge into a sneer.
I was nowhere near the heir he wanted. I was a girl, and a damaged one at that.
No vessel to shoulder his enormous legacy.
Billionaires are supposed to be able to afford the best, and James was sold damaged goods.
He might pretend to care for me to assuage his guilty conscience, but eventually, he'll start looking for a way out.
I might as well beat him to the punch. At least that way, I can be the one to make the choice.
“If you want out of this marriage, don’t stay for my sake,” I mutter. “I’ll figure something else out. I’ll find a way to raise this baby that doesn’t leave you chained to a dying woman.”
James’s eyes widen, and he leans over toward me. “That’s not what I meant.”
“You don't have to pretend, James. We both came into this with open eyes. It's not like you're my real husband, anyway. That's just what it says on the marriage certificate.”
“We’re married, Maura. You’re my wife. I refuse to let that change.”
I’m not surprised. If we don't stay married, James won't get his deal with my father. Then all this effort would've been for nothing.
“Fine.” I tear my eyes from his and stare out the window. “It's your decision. If you want a broken wife, you have her.”
“That's not how I think of you,” he says insistently. “How can you even say that?”
He's not going to let this go. At his heart, James is a decent person. He doesn’t want his own resentment to hurt me, so he’s going to keep trying to convince me it doesn’t exist. He could spend the whole rest of the flight home arguing that he doesn’t care.
Frankly, I don’t want to deal with that.
So I pull out my trump card—the sick girl card.
“Please, I'm exhausted,” I whisper. “Let me rest. Don't make me have this conversation any longer.”
I hear James moving, shifting his weight. “I am sorry, Maura. I wish I’d reacted differently, but more than that I just…I just wish I knew.”
I whisper my answer, not really sure if I want him to hear it.
“I know.”