By Lucy Monroe
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She pushed his private room’s door open without knocking and was greeted by a tableau to make any wife’s heart catch in her chest. Kassandra sat on the bed, coaxing Aristide to eat his lunch. Eden could not believe the pain she felt at the cozy scene. Aristide had not asked to see her, effectively banning her from his room by his silence, while Kassandra was not only welcome, but welcome to behave toward him with an intimacy that should have been reserved for his wife. It should have been her sitting on that bed, but Aristide hadn’t wanted her and the knowledge hurt beyond bearing.
Busy thinking, Eden let her instincts guide her toward her destination. Now that Dad had cancelled lunch, she’d have time to meet with that new glass artist she’d heard about. Would he be open to showing his work in the upcoming “History of Glass in Art” exhibit at the small museum she worked for in upstate New York? Not all artists were open to museum exhibition. There was little to no money in it for them, but the exposure was good. She was composing her approach to the artist in her mind when she hit what felt like a brick wall and bounced backward.
He probably wanted the doctor to leave so he could berate her some more, but she wasn’t sticking around for it. She let the coat go and rushed toward the door. Aristide called her name in a voice heavy with frustration and demand. She ignored him and barreled out of his room, almost knocking Kassandra down in the process. The other woman had obviously been hanging around outside the door and eavesdropping. Her smug expression said she liked what she’d heard too. Considering how painful the interview had been for Eden, she saw red.