I said, “I told Margaret what you said about my husband. That’s all.”
“You had no right!”
“Then explain why you’re so worried about what she thinks.”
Tessa went quiet.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then her voice dropped.
“You think one phone call changes anything? Margaret trusts me. She never even liked you.”
“Why does Margaret need to trust you so badly?”
“You’ll never understand.”
“Try me.”
Her breathing grew louder.
“She’ll never choose you over me,” she snapped. “Never.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
It wasn’t the response of a woman worried about losing the father of her child. It sounded like someone afraid of losing access to something important.
And I was beginning to suspect that something wasn’t Roy.
I found him later that morning in the surgical lounge.
“Roy, I need you to come with me.”
He followed me into an empty consultation room, where I closed the door and told him everything.
