Part 2: Jack didn’t move. The bustling airport continued around him—families hugging goodbye, children chasing each other between rows of seats, flight attendants calling passengers to the gate—but he stood frozen, staring at his phone as if it had suddenly become too heavy to hold.
The blonde woman noticed first. “Jack?” she asked with a nervous laugh. “Everything okay?” He didn’t answer. His thumb frantically scrolled through whatever had appeared on the screen. His confident smile disappeared completely.
Carol stepped closer. “What is it?”
He swallowed hard. “…Nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing.
I knew exactly what Gerald had sent.
Not everything.
Just enough.
Enough to remind Jack that before I became his wife, I had been the chief financial officer of Walker Biomedical Technologies—my father’s company—and the woman who had quietly rebuilt his collapsing medical practice after residency.
Everyone assumed Jack had become successful because he was brilliant.
He was a talented surgeon.
But talent alone hadn’t paid off nearly two million dollars in business debt.
Talent hadn’t negotiated hospital contracts.
Talent hadn’t convinced investors to finance the private surgical center carrying his name.
I had.
Every contract.
Every loan.
Every signature.
Every late-night negotiation while Jack slept before another shift.
My name wasn’t on the building.
But every brick existed because of me.
And Gerald had just reminded him.
Jack’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
“Gerald.”
His eyes widened.
He answered immediately.
“Why are you sending me this?”
Even from where I stood, I could hear the panic in his voice.
Gerald remained perfectly calm.
“I’m only following Mrs. Walker’s instructions.”
Jack looked around the terminal.
His eyes scanned the crowds.
Searching.
For me.
“You talked to Megan?”
“I work for Megan.”
“I need you to stop whatever you’re doing.”
“I’m afraid I can’t.”
Jack lowered his voice.
“Listen carefully. This is a misunderstanding.”
“No,” Gerald replied.
“It really isn’t.”
The call ended.
Jack immediately dialed my number.
I let it ring once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then I answered.
“How’s the surgery?” I asked.
Silence.
Then…
“Megan…”
His voice sounded completely different.
Careful.
Measured.
Afraid.
I leaned against the railing overlooking Terminal C.
“I thought you were saving lives.”
“I can explain.”
“You’ll need a very creative explanation.”
“It’s not what you think.”
I actually laughed.
The sound surprised even me.
“No?”
“You kissed another woman because… she was donating blood?”
“Megan—”
“Or maybe emergency surgery is now performed at Gate C23.”
His breathing became uneven.
“You can see me.”
“I’ve been watching you for the last ten minutes.”
He spun in a slow circle, desperately looking through the terminal.
I stepped back just enough that he couldn’t spot me behind the glass.
“Where are you?”
“Close enough.”
Below me, the blonde woman was beginning to understand.
“Jack…”
She tugged on his sleeve.
“Who’s Megan?”
He ignored her.
“Please,” he whispered into the phone.
“Let’s talk privately.”
“Oh, now privacy matters?”
“Megan…”
“I’ve spent ten years protecting your reputation.”
My voice stayed perfectly even.
“No more.”
His shoulders sagged.
“What did you do?”
“I made one phone call.”
“What was in those files?”
“You’ll find out.”
Another notification appeared on his phone.
Then another.
Then three more.
He stared at the screen in horror.
Emails.
Lots of them.
Copies sent to him.
