Chapter 3Bled Dry by the Doctor

Daddy.

What a grotesque title.

The hand Austin used to hold the ice compress froze mid-air.

I followed his panicked gaze toward the doorway. Maisie stood there rubbing her eyes, clutching a plush rabbit to her chest.

Behind her, the door to the nursery stood wide open.

A sudden, sharp sting hit my eyes.

Austin panicked. His voice was frantic, though he kept it down so Brooke wouldn't hear from the other room. "Nora, it’s just a child’s habit. Maisie grew up without a father. She clings to me because she craves male attention. Please don't overthink this."

Tears spilled over my lashes, hot and uncontrolled, splashing onto the back of my hand.

I looked at him, my voice completely hoarse. "Why is she sleeping in the nursery?"

"..."

"Austin, we have a fully furnished guest room. Why did you put her in the nursery I spent three months designing with my own hands?"

Austin didn't answer immediately. He pulled away from me, hurrying over to scoop up the whimpering little girl, murmuring gentle reassurances as he held her against his chest. Moments later, he was speaking in hushed, comforting tones to Brooke, whose eyes were already brimming with tears.

I sat alone on the edge of the couch, watching the three of them. I felt like an intruder who had stumbled into someone else's family portrait.

Or worse, the bitter villain tormenting an innocent young family.

Once Austin managed to get Maisie settled back into the room and closed the door, he finally turned back to me.

"Maisie fell in love with the wallpaper and the starlight canopy in there, so I let her have it," he said, an edge of defensive exasperation creeping into his voice. "Nora, it’s just four walls. It’s temporary. Why do you have to make such a massive issue out of everything?"

A quiet, broken laugh escaped my throat.

A massive issue?

Because every single decal, every handmade wooden mobile, every pastel blanket in that room had been chosen out of an overflow of love.

Because everything inside that room was meant for my children.

My home was no longer mine, and he had the audacity to ask me why I was upset.

Slowly, I reached into my purse, pulled out the folded surgical discharge summary and termination consent form, and laid them flat on the coffee table.

"Austin—"

Before I could finish, the nursery door clicked open again. Maisie padded out in her socks, reaching up to tug on Austin’s trousers, her wide eyes looking up at him hesitantly.

"Daddy... is it true? Can I really live here?"

Austin looked down, his expression instantly softening. "Of course it’s true, sweetheart."

"Mommy said this will be our home from now on, and that I get to be with Daddy every single day. Is that true too?"

Brooke stiffened visibly in the background.

Austin instinctively glanced over at me.

I looked right back, waiting to see how far his delusion stretched.

After a beat of uncomfortable silence, he avoided my eyes and gently ruffled the little girl’s hair. "Yes. This will be Maisie’s home from now on. Daddy will be here every day, and all those beautiful toys in the room will keep you company."

I stared at him for several seconds, then stood up without making a sound.

As I reached for the discharge papers on the table, Austin’s hand clamped down around my wrist.

His eyes bored into mine. "Nora. Grow up."

Grow up.

With those two words, whatever warmth remained in my chest extinguished completely, leaving behind nothing but cold, gray ash.

I yanked my wrist free from his grip and walked straight into the master bedroom.

I pulled my large suitcase down from the top shelf of the closet, unzipped it, and began folding my clothes.

Austin followed me inside, shutting the door behind him.

"Nora, stop this ridiculous tantrum," he hissed. "Maisie is a sick child. Brooke and I were only saying those things to keep her calm—"

"I know," I interrupted, finishing his sentence with cold precision. "You were just placating her."

"If you know that, why are you glaring at everyone like we've committed a crime? Are you really going to hold a grudge against a five-year-old?"

The room went dead silent.

Even Austin seemed to realize he had pushed too far. He took a heavy breath, stepping closer, reaching his arms out to pull me into a hug.

"Come on, Nora. Be reasonable. You have a fever and you're pregnant. Don't do this out of spite. Moving forward, I promise I'll be more mindful of your feelings."

I stepped back, evading his embrace.

His arms hung frozen in empty air.

A soft knock sounded at the door. Brooke’s voice came through the wood. "Austin? Maisie is asking for you to tuck her in. Do you have a minute?"

Then Maisie’s small voice piped up: "Daddy, I want to fall asleep with Mommy and Daddy like the other kids at preschool. Can you come lie down with me?"

Austin’s jaw clenched. After a brief pause, his hands fell to his sides.

"Get some rest," he told me quietly. "Once she’s asleep, I’ll come right back."

There it was.

That was what he called being mindful of my feelings.

As he reached for the doorknob, his eyes caught the crumpled paper still clutched in my fist. "What's that document you were holding?"