THE WIFE HE REGRETTED LOSING

Rain slammed against the hospital windows, loud and angry, making Lola Hart's hands shake as she gripped her divorce papers.

It just wouldn't let up. The sky felt furious-almost grieving.

Out in the hallway by Room 312, everything smelled like antiseptic and hopelessness. The fluorescent lights hummed above, throwing pale reflections on spotless floors. Down the hall, a nurse pushed a cart that seemed to rattle forever.

Lola barely noticed any of it.

Her gaze was stuck on a thin crack in the hospital room door.

Inside, her husband was feeding soup to another woman.

And that woman was clearly pregnant.

Lola stood rooted, frozen in the doorway, her brain fighting the words the whole scene screamed at her.

Daniel Carter sat next to the hospital bed, leaning forward to offer the woman a spoonful of soup. His jacket-designer, no question-hung over a chair, sleeves folded the way he always did, the whole thing neat and tidy. Just like him.

He looked calm. Unruffled. Kind, even.

This same man hadn't answered a single call all morning.

He wasn't there when Lola got rushed into the ER.

He wasn't there when the doctor whispered that their baby was gone.

Her grip on the papers tightened.

Inside, Daniel's voice was low and gentle.

"Careful. It's still hot."

The woman in the bed smiled-one of those intimate smiles you save for someone who means everything.

Lola's chest ached.

The woman really was beautiful. Long black hair sprawled across the pillow like spilled ink. Delicate skin, all soft and glowing beneath the hospital lights.

But her stomach was what stopped Lola cold.

Rounded. Obvious. Pregnant.

The woman's hand landed on it, almost without thinking.

Then she spoke.

"Honey," she said, sweet as sugar.

That single word echoed through Lola's skull like a gunshot.

Honey.

Daniel's whole face softened-Lola hadn't seen him look like that in months.

"Yes?" he said.

"Thank you for staying with me all night." Her voice was gentle. "You should get some rest too."

All night.

The words crashed straight into Lola.

All night. While she lay alone in the ER, crying, begging doctors to save a life that wouldn't be saved, Daniel was here.

With someone else.

Everything felt smaller, the hallway closing in. The air gone.

Lola pushed the door open. The hinges creaked, sharp and jarring.

Daniel looked up, eyes wide for one short second.

"Lola?"

The pregnant woman turned to look at her, slow and intentional. She took her in: hospital gown hanging off Lola's frame, skin pale, exhaustion written all over her.

And the woman smiled. Not awkward or worried-just sure of herself.

Lola's stomach knotted.

She looked at Daniel. Her husband. The man who'd promised her forever, three years ago.

"Daniel," she managed, her voice small, thin, more ghost than person.

Daniel stood, walked to her slowly-but there was nothing soft in his face.

No guilt. No apology. Just the faintest bit of annoyance.

"Why are you out of bed?" He sounded bored. Flat.

Lola