Chapter 4 - THE FIANCÉE WHO NEVER VISITED
Her name was Victoria Sterling.
Thirty-four.
Beautiful.
Wealthy.
The daughter of a prominent Chicago real-estate developer.
She had been engaged to Desmond for eighteen months.
And she hadn't visited him once since the accident.
Desmond stared at Detective Hayes.
"That's impossible."
Nora opened another folder.
"Victoria Sterling transferred two million dollars to a consulting company connected to the explosive device."
Desmond shook his head.
"That doesn't prove anything."
"No," Nora agreed. "It doesn't."
She looked at him.
"But it gives us a reason to investigate."
I remained quiet.
I knew better than to offer opinions about a woman I'd never met.
But I couldn't ignore the look on Desmond's face.
He wasn't angry.
Not yet.
He looked wounded.
After Nora left, he asked me to bring him his phone.
I handed it over.
He called Victoria.
She answered after six rings.
"Desmond?"
Her voice sounded surprised.
"Where are you?"
A pause.
"At home."
"Why haven't you visited?"
Silence.
Then she sighed.
"Desmond, we've discussed this."
"No, we haven't."
"Your recovery has been difficult."
He stared at the wall.
"That's one way to describe it."
Victoria continued.
"I just think we need some space."
Desmond's expression changed.
"Space."
"Yes."
He looked down at his legs.
"Because I'm in a wheelchair?"
"Don't make this ugly."
His voice dropped.
"Answer me."
Another silence.
Then she said:
"I didn't agree to marry a man who needs a nurse to help him get dressed."
The words landed like a physical blow.
I saw his hand tighten around the phone.
He said nothing.
Victoria continued.
"I'm sorry, but I have a life too."
Desmond ended the call.
For several minutes, he didn't move.
I stood near the doorway.
Finally, he spoke.
"Get out."
I hesitated.
"Desmond—"
"Please."
The word stopped me.
I nodded.
"Okay."
I left him alone.
But I didn't go far.
An hour later, I heard glass shatter.
I knocked.
No answer.
I opened the door.
Desmond sat beside the fireplace.
A broken tumbler lay on the floor.
His face was wet.
He didn't look at me.
"Don't say anything."
I nodded.
I quietly checked that he wasn't injured.
Then sat in a chair several feet away.
After a long silence, he whispered:
"She was supposed to marry me."
I looked at him.
"I know."
He swallowed.
"She said she loved me."
I nodded.
He looked down.
"Apparently she loved my legs."
My throat tightened.
I wanted to tell him Victoria was cruel.
That he deserved better.
That she wasn't worth his tears.
But none of those words would make the pain disappear.
So I said the only thing that felt honest.
"I'm sorry she hurt you."
He looked at me.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then he whispered:
May you like
"Stay."
And I did.
