Chapter 6
Nadia slumped in the hospital corridor, alone with her racing thoughts until the nurse’s voice jolted her back. The surgery was
over.
Pat had slipped through death’s fingers again, but the doctor’s words hit like a punch. “Get ready,” he’d said, his voice soft but heavy. Pat’s vitals were a flickering candle, ready to go out any moment.
Nadia mumbled a thank–you, her heart knotted, and shuffled back to Pat’s room. She rubbed his arm, her touch gentle but steady. “You can head out,” she murmured. “I need some time with him.”
The nurse shot her a look. Nadia was a fortress, never letting anyone see her crumble. “I’ll be in the break room. Holler if you need me.”
Pat’s legs, gone from the knees down, were a faint echo of what they’d been. His thighs, once powerful, were now skinnier than his arms, the muscle wasted away.
No one got Pat like Nadia did. Pain tore at him every day, but he still radiated light–cracking dumb jokes, flashing that infectious grin.
After joining the wheelchair basketball team, he’d thrown himself into it, sharing every high and low with that same fire. A lost game wouldn’t crush him. No way he’d check out over one bad day.
She needed him to wake up. To look her in the eyes and spill what happened that night.
Her hands trembled, sore from massaging his arms. When the nurse came to clean Pat up, Nadia stepped out to the balcony, the cool air a small mercy. Her phone buzzed–Kate.
“Not interrupting anything steamy, am I?” Kate teased, her voice all mischief.
“Nah, just chilling at the hospital.” Nadia shook out her damp hair, letting the breeze do its thing.
“How’s Pat doing?”
“They pulled him through.”
Kate exhaled hard. “Thank God. Docs are always coming up with new tricks. He might just pop awake one day.” She switched gears, all business. “So, Mr. Palmer’s been hounding me. That gown you fixed? He’s obsessed. Wants you on his team, like, yesterday.”
Clive was the king of restoration. One job with him, and your name was set in lights. Him chasing Nadia down? That was a badge of honor.
Nadia’s skills were next–level, but after marrying Jason, she’d stepped back, focusing on family and only picking up small gigs to keep her hands sharp.
Things were different now. She needed to stack cash–serious cash–to keep Pat’s care top–tier once she was free.
“I’m in,” Nadia said.
“Wait, what?” Kate’s shock crackled through the line. She’d been pushing Nadia to get back in the game forever, always hitting a wall.
“Text me the address. I’ll swing by.” Nadia hesitated, then added, “But keep my main account on the down–low, cool?” Kate snapped back quick. “Hold up–you’re working again? Done playing doormat for that bastard?”
“I told him I’m out. He’s dragging his feet, but it’s happening.” Nadia’s voice was calm, like she was talking about someone else’s trainwreck.
“About damn time! That creep’s been jerking you around for years, and you just let him toy with you!” Kate was fired up. “If we could just catch him and that sidepiece getting cozy, then you drop your marriage license? Boom–cheater and his skank are donezo.
“Catch them how?” Nadia’s tone sharpened.
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Chapter 6
“Forget it.” Kate’s laugh was pure trouble. “The universe’ll handle those two. I’m calling Mr. Palmer now–he’s gonna lose his mind.”
Nadia knew Kate was holding something back, but before she could push, Kate hung up.
She leaned into the breeze, her hair dancing in the wind. A flicker caught her eye–someone in the corridor.
Her heart lurched, and she bolted inside, but the hallway was dead empty.
Just my eyes messing with me. No way that was him,‘ she thought.
Nadia had been up all night at the hospital, and by the time she hopped in a cab to Kate’s place the next morning, she was running on fumes.
Her eyes were just starting to droop when her phone’s shrill ringtone snapped her awake.
“Hey,” she croaked, clearing the ́sleep from her throat.
JMrs. Black…” The maid’s voice was shaky, like she was tiptoeing on eggshells. “Um, about Mr. Black’s breakfast…”
Nadia’s brain was still half–asleep after the long night. “It’s in the fridge, second shelf. Just warm it up.”
The maid muffled the phone, then came back, hesitant. “There’s, uh, just some wilted salad in there.”
“Salad? No way. I had macaroni last night.” Nadia pinched the bridge of her nose, irritation creeping in. “Fine. Ask Jason what he wants and throw something together.”
The maid’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Last time I made his breakfast, he docked my pay for two months. Could you…. maybe handle it when you get back?”
Nadia was wide awake now.
That nervous, let–me–check–with–the–king tone? Jason was definitely looming nearby.
The guy’s got a body that could grace a magazine cover, but he’s obsessed with low–fat meals. Nadia had spent hours prepping healthy, grab–and–go dishes for the fridge. There was no way they were out of options.
“Look, it’s a fridge, not a treasure hunt. If it’s not in the chiller, check the freezer. If you’re still out of luck, order takeout.” She hung up before they could drag it out further.
‘Seriously? Abby drags him out all night, and she doesn’t even make sure the guy’s fed?‘ Nadia wondered.
Meanwhile, the maid shrank under Jason’s stormy glare. “She hung up…”
Jason’s jaw clenched. He’d heard every word.
“Should I… make something?” she offered, voice barely audible.
His perfect, chiseled face stayed cold as ice. After a beat, he said, “Call her back. Ask how long to steam the pumpkin.”
The maid blinked. ‘You’re kidding, right?‘
Jason’s eaten that pumpkin a million times–same cut, same steaming time, perfected after his endless complaints. He knew the routine.
But the job paid well, and it was usually low–drama, so she bit her tongue and dialed Nadia again.
It took ages for the call to go through.
“Ma’am, I found the meal prep, but it’s got beef and corn kernels. I’m not sure what Mr. Black’s feeling today, so I didn’t want to mess it up.”
Nadia was at Kate’s doorstep, juggling her phone while digging for her keys.
2/8
11:35 AM
Chapter 6
“Steam three–centimeter ribs with sweet bean sauce. Blend the corn into a puree,“she said.
The phone got muffled again. Then, “Uh, where’s the sweet bean sauce…?”
Nadia sucked in a deep breath, patience wearing thin. “Put Jason on the phone. Now.”
“He’s out for his morning run…”
“Then call me when he’s back.”
Another muffled pause, and then his voice cut through, low and dripping with arrogance. “What do you want?”
‘Oh, come on,‘ she thought. ‘Playing dumb? Really, Jason?‘
Nadia stepped into Kate’s place, grabbed the outfit she’d wear, and forced her voice to stay calm. “Order takeout today, Jason. And hire a chef. I’m done playing your personal cook.”
“Done?” His tone was sharp, mocking. “Who fired the chef and signed up for cooking classes? Who was all, ‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? Shoving your sad little dishes in my face, acting like you were living for it. What, now you’re tapping out?”
Nadia’s heart twisted, a sharp pain slicing through her.
These hands, made for delicate, intricate work, had been cut and burned learning to cook for him. And Jason? Not one kind word–just cold, cutting sarcasm.
He’d mocked her behind closed doors before, but now, with the maid right there? The humiliation stung deeper, like a fresh wound.
Her emotions were wound so tight she felt like she might be sick.
She fought to keep her voice steady, but it trembled. “Sign the divorce papers, Jason. Then you can eat whatever–or whoever -you want. I’m out.”
His voice turned razor–sharp. “Don’t get cocky, Nadia. You’re not that special.”
“Special? Was I ever anything to you?” A bitter laugh slipped out.
This time, he hung up first. Nadia pressed her fingers to her burning eyes and went to change.
Every time she’d set a plate in front of Jason, her heart full of hope, his disgusted glares had crushed her. Maybe he’d been choking down her food, fighting the urge to spit it out.
Spending her days slaving over the stove, desperate to make him happy, she’d lost herself–turned into a pathetic, clingy shadow of a woman, living for his approval.
Now, even she couldn’t stand who she’d become.
Back at the house, the maid tried again, voice cautious. “Sir, should I start breakfast?”
She’d seen the couple bicker, but Jason’s face had never looked this dark, like a storm about to break.
His eyes lingered on the fridge, on the neat row of meal prep containers, each labeled with Nadia’s precise instructions. A heavy, unspoken weight settled in his chest.
“Do
The
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