Chapter 4 - The Audit on the FloorNathan’s face drained of color so fast he looked like a corpse standing in a gray suit. The large bouquet of pink roses slipped from his trembling fingers, crashing onto the polished linoleum floorboards.
"Discharged...?! High-security suite...?!" Nathan stammered, his polished baritone cracking into a high, panicked squeak. "I am her husband! I am the father of those children! You cannot restrict my access!"
"You were her husband, Mr. Whitmore," a deep, thunderous voice echoed from the end of the hallway.
Nathan turned around quickly.
Walking down the corridor, flanked by two broad-shouldered hospital security guards and two uniformed Columbus Police officers, was Arthur Vance.
Behind Arthur walked me.
I wasn't wearing a hospital gown. I wore an immaculate midnight-blue cashmere coat over a dark maternity blouse, my dark hair styled in an elegant knot, my posture straight, strong, and sovereign.
Although my body was still recovering from the surgery, I walked with an unshakeable, royal dignity that held every eye in the hallway spellbound.
Nathan stared at me as if he were seeing a ghost. His jaw sagged open in total, speech-bound horror.
"Caroline...!" Nathan gasped out, taking a fast, clumsy step toward me. "My God, Caroline! Where have you been?! I’ve been worried sick about you! I came as soon as my business meetings concluded!"
I stopped five feet from him. I didn't yell. I didn't shed a single tear. I looked at the man I had been married to for five years with a quiet, weightless indifference that shattered his remaining confidence into a million pieces.
"You were at the Scioto Country Club on Thursday afternoon, Nathan," I spoke softly. My voice possessed a velvet power that echoed off the white walls. "You were drinking scotch with Vanessa while Nurse Hannah put your phone on speaker in my operating room."
Vanessa let out a sharp, horrified gasp, backing toward the elevator doors, her face turning an ugly, sweat-slicked shade of green.
Nathan’s bloodshot eyes bulged out of his head. "Caroline... listen to me! That... that was a misunderstanding! I was entertaining a major corporate client! Vanessa was just assisting with the event!"
"You told her I turn everything into a crisis, Nathan," I reminded him flatly. "You said I was making a big deal out of nothing while my daughters were dying inside my womb."
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Arthur Vance stepped forward, pulling a thick Manila folder bound by red judicial seals from his briefcase, handing a set of legal papers directly to Nathan.
"Nathan Whitmore," Arthur announced, his baritone booming through the corridor like thunder. "You have been officially served with a Petition for Absolute Divorce, an Emergency Restraining Order, and a Master Notice of Asset Forfeiture."
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