because you were up for the Associate Chief of Surgery position, and you didn’t want a personal distraction blurring your image as the dedicated, unencumbered surgeon.”
For the first time since I had known him, Marcus looked down.
“It was one mistake, Clara,” he stammered.
Pain tightened behind my ribs.
“One mistake?”
Then I reminded him of something from six years earlier that I had tried desperately to forget.
During our first year of marriage, I miscarried at ten weeks.
I was bleeding, frightened, and barely able to stand.
Marcus
