Brent was wheeled out of the operating room.

A crowd of employees from the company had come to see him.

He was weak, his lips bloodless, without even the strength to speak.

And yet he still lifted his arm and cupped his palm against the back of that girl's head.

I'd seen her before. She was the girl Brent had rushed off to rescue two years ago.

How absurd. The person who'd made me lose my mind these two years, made me doubt everything, made my marriage fall apart, turned out to be nothing but a fresh-faced young girl.

Brent's taste hadn't changed at all. A young woman brimming with youth, hair always pulled back in a ponytail.

Barely any makeup on her face, only a faint touch of lipstick, and somehow that made her all the more striking.

It was almost as if I were looking at my younger self.

"Marion Pruitt, it's all right. It's just a little wound."

"You look ugly when you cry."

Brent's voice was gentle, and a faint smile curved his pale face.

Marion's lips were pressed into a pout, her eyes red enough to break your heart.

"I was just worried about you."

"Does the wound still hurt?"

"Did you get hurt because of me?"

The sound of the door opening broke through all that sweetness.

Even wrapped in layers of thick bandages, Brent still straightened up and tucked Marion behind him, shielding her.

"She's just a kid who's barely stepped into the working world. Don't use your dirty tricks on her."

Over the years, because of my suspicions, I really had looked into a lot of women.

But those threatening words were only ever meant for Brent's ears.

He was the one who took them for the truth.

He, of all people, should have understood me best. He, of all people, should have known that many years ago I was just like the girl in front of him, simple and naive.

So why had I changed? Because of his unfaithfulness, his lies. He forced the change in me.

I didn't fall apart. I didn't press him over and over, demanding why he was shielding this girl, why he doubted that my heart was true.

Instead I held Brent's medical report in my hand and stepped slowly toward the bed.

"From today on, she can show her face in the open. I won't give her any more trouble."

But Brent's guard against me never once came down.

He lifted his eyelids.

"Marion and I are nothing but boss and employee."

"She won't take your place, and she's no threat to you."

Brent was good at lying. When he lied, his face never flushed, his heart never skipped.

Two years ago, his phone suddenly went locked. Only once, by chance, did I catch a glimpse of his photo album.

It was packed with pictures of his back while he cooked. I hadn't taken them. They could only have come from Marion.

And there were all the nights he never came home, always claiming he was working late.

When I went to the company, I found the whole building dark, not a single light on.

Now, I couldn't be bothered to expose any of it.

"You're Marion, right? I'm willing to hand over the place of Mrs. Gilbert to you. From now on you won't have to hide."

Her knees suddenly gave way and she dropped to the floor, then slowly moved toward me.

Her pale fingers clutched tight at the hem of my clothes.

"Deidre, that's not what I meant, please don't misunderstand. There's nothing between Mr. Gilbert and me, nothing at all, I swear."

I looked down at her, at that clean, fair face. It was hard not to be moved by it.

To prove herself innocent, she raised her hand again and slapped herself hard across the cheek, several times.

"Deidre, I promise I'll keep far away from Mr. Gilbert from now on. But could you please, please stop hurting him?"

Those slaps landed squarely on Brent's heart.

He ignored the wound seeping blood, ran to me barefoot, and looked at me with the most venomous eyes.

"Deidre Swanson, how long are you going to keep this up?"

"What haven't I given you, everything you ever wanted?"

I was only stepping aside, and I'd never hurt her. Why, no matter what I did, did Brent have to treat me like some unforgivable criminal?

This marriage really was a complete failure.

"Brent, what I want, you can't give me anymore."

"This marriage, I'll be the one to yield first. It's fine if you don't sign. I'll leave this place, as far from you as I can get."

The heart he'd handed over to Marion Pruitt was probably never coming back.

Spring seemed to be on its way. Behind the last of the snow, the bare branches had begun to push out tender buds.

The orchid on the balcony was still blooming, proud and alone.

I took out a paper box and set it inside.

Then I noticed the shattered hole in the glass again, and even the wind coming through it didn't feel as cold anymore.

When Brent came home from the hospital, Marion Pruitt was with him.

She was always afraid of me. She couldn't even find the courage to look me in the eye.

"Deidre, I only brought Mr. Gilbert home. Nothing happened on the way, I swear."

I answered softly, without much rise or fall in my voice.

This was the first time Brent had openly brought Marion Pruitt into our home, brought her right in front of me.

If I had never stepped through that magical door.

I would have gone straight for her without a second thought, grabbed her by the hair, forced her to her knees, and demanded to know why she'd gone after a married man.

Brent pressed a hand over his heart and lowered himself onto the sofa.

"Deidre, no matter how ugly our fights got before, you never once said the word divorce. What's gotten into you these past few days?"

"That girl who came to the house that night was just someone I brought over to get a rise out of you. Nothing happened between us."

"Don't you understand? That was my way of trying to hold on to you."

For once I was calm, and I knew that if I kept insisting on his affair, he would never agree to the divorce.

"I cheated. And I'm pregnant."

"If I don't get rid of you soon, I won't be able to hide the baby much longer."

"I really do regret not driving a knife into you that night. If you were dead, I wouldn't have to explain any of this to you."

Disbelief filled his eyes.

"Are you serious, Deidre?"

I pulled out the prenatal report I'd printed ahead of time.

"Three months along. I love this baby, and I love the baby's father even more."

"Brent, let's divorce. Let me be with another man."

His eyelids suddenly dropped, and he let out a few weak, dry laughs.

"Fine. Let's do it. Divorce is good."

When he raised his head again, his eyes had gone much wetter.

"Let's get everything out in the open today."

"We'll go straight to the county records office and sign the papers."

"One more look at you makes me sick."

The moment he gave in, I finally couldn't hold it back, and somewhere deep inside, I wept.

I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my life in pain over the stubbornness of my younger years.

As we left the county records office, Brent looked at me one last time.

"Deidre, I never want to see you again for the rest of my life."

I smiled.

"Neither do I."

Just as the plane was about to take off, a rare blizzard came down over Crestford.

The airport announced the flight was canceled.

I sat in the departure hall with the orchid held against my chest.

On my phone, Brent's messages came one after another.

"Deidre, you were never pregnant. You lied to me."

"I want a reasonable explanation. Why did you trick me into a divorce?"

I looked at the gray, overcast sky, then picked up my phone and typed fast.

"At my family's old house, you might find the truth you're looking for."

"Just don't regret it once you've seen it."