Chapter 8
Nathan did not answer the phone.
He looked at the screen, silenced it, and slipped it away.
Thomas watched him.
Nancy watched both men.
“Who was that?”
Nathan adjusted his grip on the box though it now rested on the blanket.
“No one who matters in this room.”
Thomas smiled.
“Good answer.”
Nancy did not smile.
“Was someone trying to stop the wedding?”
Silence.
Elaine looked down at the floor.
Nathan remained still.
Thomas sighed softly.
“Nancy.”
“No. I may be wearing a veil, but I am not decorative.”
His eyes warmed.
“I know.”
“Then stop treating me like I’m too fragile to know when men are hiding something.”
Nathan coughed once into his hand.
Thomas looked amused.
Even exhausted, even tethered to oxygen, he looked pleased by her fire.
“There she is,” he whispered.
Nancy’s anger faltered.
“What?”
“The woman I remembered.”
Her eyes filled again.
“You remembered a stubborn woman?”
“I remembered a woman who only became quiet when other people punished her for being right.”
The room stilled.
Nancy looked away first.
Thomas reached for her hand.
She let him take it.
“No one stopped the wedding,” he said. “That is what matters.”
“For now.”
“For now.”
She looked at him sharply.
He did not deny it.
That frightened her more than any dramatic warning could have.
Nathan stepped forward.
“Mrs. Whitaker, I can assure you that the marriage was properly witnessed, properly signed, and properly recorded.”
Nancy stared.
“That sounds like something someone will challenge.”
Nathan said nothing.
Thomas squeezed her hand.
“Let them.”
His voice was weak.
The words were not.
Nancy looked at the locked box between them.
Not a gift only.
A line drawn.
A move made while Thomas still had breath, still had his name, still had the right to choose.
She began to understand why he called it a trap.
Not because he tricked her into marriage.
Because someone else might have believed she would never step into her rightful place.
But she still did not know what that place was.
And Thomas would not tell her.
The nurse moved quietly to adjust his pillow. Nancy helped, smoothing the blanket with one hand.
Thomas looked up at her, peaceful beneath the hospital lights.
“Whatever comes,” he whispered, “remember the first part.”
“What first part?”
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“That you came back to me.”
Read Chapter 9 👉 Because Thomas wanted Nancy to remember the wedding before anyone tried to turn the box into fear.
