Chapter 2

Dock woke to the smell of stale coffee and silence. The silence was the first thing that felt wrong. Usually, the aroma of a fresh pot, brewed exactly how he liked it, would be wafting from the kitchen. Gladys was a creature of habit. His habit.

He rolled over. Her side of the bed was empty, the sheets cold and undisturbed. She hadn' t come back to bed.

He sat up, a mild annoyance pricking at him. She' d actually left. He' d expected tears, maybe some yelling, followed by a dramatic night on the couch. But walking out? It was a bit much.

"Playing hard to get," he muttered to himself, swinging his legs out of bed. "She'll be back. They always come back."

He had a surgery scheduled for ten, a complex cardiac bypass that required his full attention. He showered quickly, the water washing away the lingering scent of last night' s cold chicken and disappointment. He told himself it was disappointment in her theatrics, not in the empty space she' d left behind.

He grabbed his phone to call Brianna, a ritual that always settled him before a big surgery.

"Hey, you," he said, his voice instantly softening.

"Dock!" Brianna' s voice was bright, full of the youthful energy that he found so addictive. "I was just thinking about you. Are you coming to see me today?"

"After my surgery. I promise. How are you feeling?"

"So much better! The doctor said my numbers are perfect. I think I might be able to come home soon. Really come home."

The words sent a jolt of something complicated through him. Relief, yes. But something else, too. A flicker of anxiety he couldn't name.

"That's great, B. Just take it easy. Don't push yourself."

"I won't. I'll just be here, waiting for my handsome husband to come rescue me."

He smiled. This was easy. This was the script he knew. He was the rescuer, the provider, the hero. With Gladys, the lines had always been blurred. She was a nurse; she rescued people too. She didn't need him in the same way.

He hung up and drove to the hospital, the unease from the empty house fading as he slipped into the familiar, sterile world of medicine. He was Dr. Patterson here. Confident, in control.

After a successful surgery, he went straight to Brianna' s room in the transplant wing. She was sitting up in bed, her face glowing. She practically launched herself into his arms when he walked in.

"You're here!" she squealed, hugging him tightly.

"Told you I'd come," he said, stroking her hair. He held her at arm's length, his eyes doing a quick, professional scan. "You do look better. Color's good."

"I feel amazing. It's like... like her kidney finally decided to be my friend," she said with a little giggle.

He felt a strange tightening in his chest at the mention of Gladys. "It's a part of you now, B. You just need to take care of it."

"I will," she said, her expression turning serious. "I promise. We can finally start our lives, Dock. No more hiding. No more her."

She leaned in, her lips finding his. He kissed her back, the motion automatic. He told himself this was what he wanted. This was the end goal, the culmination of years of obligation and secret planning.

"The doctor said I could be discharged as early as next week," she whispered against his mouth. "We can go on that trip to Italy we talked about."

"Whatever you want, B," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his. "Did you tell her?"

"She knows," he said, his tone flat. "She saw some mail."

"And? Was she awful? Did she cry?" There was a sharp, eager curiosity in her voice that was slightly off-putting.

"She left," he said simply. "Packed a bag and left."

"Good," Brianna said, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. "It's about time. She was always hanging around like a bad smell." She settled back against the pillows, looking pleased with herself. "She was probably just trying to make you feel guilty. She'll call you, begging to come back, you'll see."

Dock didn't answer. He stared out the window, a strange emptiness echoing in his chest. He expected to feel relieved, free. Instead, he just felt... quiet.

"What's wrong?" Brianna asked, sensing his shift in mood. "Are you worried about your surgery?"

"No, surgery went fine," he said, forcing a smile. "Just tired. Long day."

"Well, you need to rest," she said, patting his hand. "Go home. Get some sleep. I'll be fine."

He nodded, grateful for the excuse to leave. He gave her another perfunctory kiss and walked out of the room.

As he walked down the hall, he felt the vibration in his pocket. It was a text from Lee. 'Drinks tonight? Heard you're a free man.'

He shouldn't. He was on call. But the thought of going back to that silent, empty house was unbearable.

'Yeah. O'Malley's. 8 o'clock.'

Back in her room, Brianna watched him go, her smile fading as soon as the door closed. She picked up a burner phone tucked under her mattress. A flicker of doubt crossed her mind. His reaction wasn't what she'd expected. He wasn't celebrating. He was... distant.

She needed to make sure Gladys was out of the picture for good. She scrolled through her contacts, finding the number she'd used before. Her fingers flew across the screen, typing out another message, this one designed not just to inform, but to break.

'He chose me. He's always chosen me. We're having a baby.'

She attached the picture of the positive pregnancy test. It was an old one, from a scare they'd had a year ago that turned out to be nothing. But Gladys didn't need to know that.

She pressed send, a cruel, triumphant smile returning to her face. That should do it. That should be the final push Gladys needed to disappear forever.