Nathaniel's chest tightened, a sinking feeling settling deep in his gut. Her words rang like a warning bell. His mind jumped to the worst: 'Is she going to bring up the divorce? Is she really leaving me?'
He couldn't face that.
"We can talk later. Just get some rest." Without even glancing back at her, he walked out in a hurry.
Zara stared at the empty doorway, irritation flickering across her face.
"Nathaniel," she muttered under her breath. "Why is it so hard for you to just sit beside me, even for a moment?"
Several minutes later…
Nathaniel walked down the hallway toward Zara's room, fresh from speaking with the doctor. The news should have brought relief—Zara was recovering well, no complications, and she'd be discharged the next day. But instead of feeling at ease, a thick knot of anxiety pulled tight in his chest.
'She said she wanted to talk,' he thought with every step he took toward her room. 'Is she going to ask for the divorce? Has she already made up her mind?'
