“Who exactly do you think you are?” His ex-wife narrowed her eyes at the sight of me by his hospital bed.
“Excuse me, could you point me to room two-seventeen?” The elderly woman clutched her handbag as she addressed the nurse flipping through a magazine at the station.
“Down the hall, then right,” came the curt reply.
Margaret tightened her grip on the bag of groceries and shuffled forward. Hospital corridors always filled her with dreadthe sterile smell, the squeak of trolleys, muffled voices behind closed doors. Shed hated them ever since her mother passed away in one.
At the door, she knocked softly before entering. Four beds filled the room, but her eyes landed immediately on the one by the window. Edward lay there, pale, his eyes closed. A wilting bouquet of carnations sat on the bedside table.
“Eddie,” she whispered, stepping closer.
His eyelids fluttered open. “Maggie? How did you?”
“Linda from the bakery told me. Ran into her at Tescoasked why I hadnt seen you lately.”
She set the bag down and perched on the chair beside him. Edward looked awfulhollow cheeks, dull eyes. Nothing like the lively man she remembered.
“What happened?”
“Bit of a heart scare,” he said, waving a hand. “Doctors called it a mild heart attack. Nothing serious.”
“Good Lord, Eddie!” She clasped her hands to her chest. “I had no idea!”
“Why would you? We havent exactly kept in touch.”
There was no bitterness in his voice, just resignation. They hadnt spoken much since he married Cynthiajust polite nods at the supermarket or the odd chat at the bus stop.
“I brought you some things.” She pulled out jars of homemade jam, pickles, a flask of tea. “Your favourites.”
“Cheers, Mags.” He smiled for the first time. “Thats really thoughtful.”
“What did the doctors say? When can you leave?”
“Next week, if all goes well. Strict diet, pills, no stressthe whole healthy-living routine.”
She nodded. She wanted to ask about Cynthiawhy wasnt his wife here? Maybe work, or errands.
“And Cynthia? Has she been by?”
Edward turned toward the window. “Cynthias… not in the picture anymore. We divorced.”
“*What?*” She nearly shot out of the chair. “When?”
“Finalised three months back. Wed been living apart for half a year.”
“Eddie, what on earth happened?”
He studied the clouds outside. “Suppose she got tired of me. Said shed fallen out of lovewanted a fresh start. You know how it goes.”
Margaret was stunned. Theyd been married eight years. Cynthia had her own salon; he worked at the factory. Theyd bought a flat, a carseemed happy enough.
“Was that why?”
“Who knows?” He shrugged. “Doctors said stress didnt help. But my tickers been dodgy for a while. Just ignored it.”
“Where are you staying now?”
“Back at Mums. Thank God she took me innowhere else to go.”
Margaret pictured Edithstrict but fair. Shed always liked Margaret when they were young. A one-bed flat would be cramped, though.
“How did it come to this? You two were so happy at the wedding.”
“We were,” he sighed. “People change, Mags. Thought love lasted forever. Turns out it doesnt.”
She knew that pain. Her ex, Geoffrey, had left her for another woman when their daughter, Sophie, was just a toddler. Now Sophie was married, living in Manchester.
“Eddie, I need to apologise.”
“What for?”
“For what happened back then. It was rotten of me.”
He set down his tea. “Maggie, that was decades ago. Why dredge it up now?”
“Because I *need* to.” She swallowed. “Seeing you herealoneI realised how many mistakes Ive made.”
“We all have.”
“Not everyone throws away someone good for empty promises.”
He covered her hand with his. “I never held it against you. Hurt like hell, sure. But if someone can walk away, maybe it wasnt meant to be.”
“Geoffrey walked away too,” she said wryly. “So I lost you *and* him.”
“But youve got Sophie. Shes brilliantLinda says shes doing well.”
Margaret smiled. Sophie *was* her pridea doctor now, happily married.
“You and Cynthia never…?”
“No. She didnt want kids. Too busy, not enough moneyexcuses, really. Guess she just didnt want *mine*.”
A nurse bustled in with medication. Margaret stepped aside.
“Everything alright?” the nurse asked Edward.
“Fine, thanks.”
“Blood pressure check, then your meds. And you” She eyed Margaret. “Family?”
Margaret hesitated. *Ex-fiancée? Old flame?*
“She is,” Edward answered for her.
The nurse nodded and got to work. After she left, Margaret checked the clock.
“I should go. Buses run less often this late.”
“Thanks for coming. Really.”
She kissed his cheek. “Ill pop by tomorrow. Bring some proper soup.”
He grinned. “Id like that.”
At the door, she nearly collided with a tall blonde in a designer coatCynthia.
“Eddie!” she trilled, ignoring Margaret. “How are you?”
“Alright,” he said stiffly.
“I brought flowers!” She plonked roses on the table. “And grapes.”
Margaret hovered awkwardly.
Cynthia finally noticed her. “And you are…?”
“Margaret. Weve met.”
Cynthias eyes narrowed. “*That* Margaret? The one who dumped him?”
“Cynthia, *enough*,” Edward muttered.
“Oh, please.” She turned to Margaret. “What are you even doing here? Come to play nurse?”
“I heard he was ill. Thought Id visit.”
“How *touching*. Where were you when he was fit and healthy?”
Margarets cheeks burned. “I think youve confused me with yourself.”
Cynthia stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“You left *him*for someone else. And now you waltz in like you still have a say?”
Edward groaned. “Ladies, *please*I feel rotten enough as it is.”
The nurse returned, scowling. “Whats all this? He needs *rest*.”
Cynthia grabbed her bag. “Ill go. Eddie, call if you need anything.”
She flounced out, leaving expensive perfume in her wake.
Margaret exhaled. “I should go too.”
Edward caught her hand. “Come back tomorrow?”
She squeezed his fingers. “Try and stop me.”
Outside, Cynthia waited by the exit.
“Look,” she said stiffly, “Im not the villain here. I just… wanted to be happy.”
Margaret studied herthe flawless makeup, the tired eyes. “Are you?”
Cynthia hesitated. “I hope so.”
“Then let him be. You made your choice.”
“And who are *you* to decide that?” Cynthia snapped.
The question haunted Margaret all the way home. *Who was she?* The woman whod broken his heart decades ago. The one whod chosen wrong.
But maybejust maybelife was giving them another chance.
