I almost laughed.
Fair.
A word men like Ryan discovered only when consequences touched them.
Priya handed him an envelope.
“This letter outlines communication boundaries. You may see Lily under hospital supervision today if Claire consents, but you may not be alone with her, and you may not speak to Claire without counsel present.”
Ryan did not take the envelope.
“I’m her husband.”
Priya held it steady.
“And I am her attorney.”
The standoff lasted three seconds.
Ryan took the envelope.
Then he looked at me with that same cold disbelief from before.
“You’re making a mistake.”
I looked at Lily.
“No,” I said. “I already made one. I married you. I’m correcting it.”
His face changed.
The mask slipped just enough for everyone to see the rage beneath.
Then Dana appeared at the door.
“Is everything all right?”
Ryan put the mask back on.
“Everything is fine.”
“No,” I said. “He can leave now.”
Dana nodded to the security officer stationed discreetly in the hall.
Ryan looked around the room, calculating witnesses again.
Then he placed the flowers on the counter with deliberate care.
“For Lily,” he said.
I looked at the white roses.
They smelled expensive and empty.
After he left, Daniel threw them in the trash.
“Hey,” I said weakly.
“What?”
“The vase might be useful.”
Daniel retrieved the vase, dumped the roses harder than necessary, and rinsed it in the bathroom sink.
Eli finally smiled.
It changed his whole face.
For half a second, I saw the man he might have been before whatever had made him hide from the building parties and carry groceries up fourteen flights of stairs.
That night, when Daniel went to get real food and Priya left to file emergency paperwork, Eli sat near the window while snow fell beyond the glass.
“You should go home,” I said.
He looked over.
“Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll stay a little longer.”
I studied him.
There were so many things I did not know.
He was maybe thirty-eight. Ten years older than me. He lived alone in 14B. He was quiet. He fixed the building’s broken lobby door once when the superintendent ignored it for three days. He had carried Mrs. Alvarez’s groceries during a power outage. He watered a small basil plant on his windowsill. That was nearly everything I knew.
“Why did you answer so fast?” I asked.
He looked down at his hands.
“I was awake.”
“At one forty-three in the morning?”
“I don’t sleep well.”
The answer closed a door.
I did not push.
