Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Cullen had arrived home.
"Dad!" Sabrina's voice brightened with excitement.
"Mmm." Cullen stepped into the bedroom, moving directly toward the bed where his daughter lay.
Veronica shifted, preparing to set Sabrina down and give Cullen room. But the little girl clung tighter to her stepmother's arms, extending her small hands toward her father while refusing to leave Veronica's warm embrace.
Cullen scooped Sabrina up with practiced ease.
As he leaned closer, Veronica caught the familiar woody notes of his expensive cologne. But beneath that masculine scent lurked something else entirely. A floral perfume, light and sophisticated, clung to his shirt and jacket. The same fragrance she had noticed on Niall at tonight's dinner gathering.
Veronica turned her head away and rose from the bed, putting distance between herself and Cullen until the betraying scents no longer invaded her senses.
Cullen placed his palm, decorated with a platinum timepiece, against Sabrina's small forehead before looking at Veronica. "What's her temperature reading? Any improvement?"
Veronica repeated what the physician had told her. "The fever broke, but it might spike again during the night."
Cullen settled onto the mattress with Sabrina nestled against him. She squirmed in his hold, her face scrunching up. "Dad, your jacket feels scratchy."
Without speaking, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and extended it toward Veronica. She took it automatically, the expensive fabric sliding through her fingers. Only when those mixed fragrances rose from the material did the painful truth hit her fully. She and Cullen were heading toward divorce.
Once upon a time, she would have treasured holding his clothing, breathing in his scent, never wanting to let go. Now she draped the jacket carelessly over a nearby chair and faced Sabrina. "I'll go prepare some chicken soup downstairs."
With both Cullen and Veronica present, and Sabrina showing signs of recovery, the child nodded eagerly. "Yes, please. Thank you, Mom."
Veronica offered a gentle smile before leaving Sabrina's bedroom. Cullen's eyes followed her movements, then shifted to his jacket hanging abandoned on the chair.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Veronica began preparing the broth, then moved on to chopping vegetables and preparing noodles. Twenty minutes passed before she cleaned her hands and emerged from the kitchen.
She paused at the bottom of the staircase, then climbed to the second floor. Reaching the landing, she glanced down the hallway and spotted Cullen positioned near the large window at the far end.
He spoke quietly into his phone. "Her temperature dropped. No need to worry."
Veronica wondered if Niall was on the other end of that call, and whether the woman genuinely cared about Sabrina's condition. She turned away from the scene and entered Sabrina's room.
The IV drip had finished, and Sabrina slept peacefully despite being damp with perspiration. Chelsea sat beside the bed, dabbing the child's forehead with a cool cloth. When she noticed Veronica, she immediately stood and held out the towel.
Chelsea expected Veronica to take over, as she always had before. Throughout their marriage, Veronica had managed both Sabrina's needs and Cullen's household without assistance.
Veronica shook her head, declining the towel. Chelsea looked surprised but quickly recovered, continuing to tend to Sabrina and helping change her into fresh, dry pajamas.
Veronica lowered herself onto the small sofa. Once Chelsea completed her tasks, Veronica asked, "Did the doctor leave already?"
"Yes, about ten minutes ago."
"What was his final assessment? Should we expect another fever spike?" She needed to know whether staying overnight was necessary.
"He seemed confident the fever wouldn't return."
"Good news." With Sabrina's improvement, there appeared to be no reason for her to remain in this house tonight.
The chicken soup continued simmering downstairs. After checking on it, she found Chelsea already working in the kitchen.
Chelsea glanced up from stirring the pot. "I can handle the rest, Mrs. Dennis. You look exhausted. Please sit down and rest yourself."
Veronica appreciated Chelsea's thoughtfulness, but she felt restless. Standing in this kitchen, surrounded by the life she had built with Cullen, knowing another woman's perfume lingered on his clothes upstairs, made her chest tight with suppressed emotion. The normalcy of preparing soup for a sick child while her marriage crumbled around her felt surreal.
She moved to the kitchen island, gripping its edge as she watched Chelsea work. The older woman had been with their family since before Veronica arrived, witnessing the early days of their marriage when hope still existed. Now Chelsea worked quietly, perhaps sensing the tension that filled the house like smoke.
The soup's aroma filled the air, rich and comforting. Soon Sabrina would wake, and they would simple meal together. Cullen would probably join them, playing the role of devoted father and husband. They would sit around Sabrina's bed, pretending their family remained intact while the scent of another woman's perfume still clung to his shirt.
Veronica closed her eyes briefly, gathering strength for the performance ahead. For Sabrina's sake, she would maintain the facade a little longer. But each moment in this house now felt like walking through quicksand, every step pulling her deeper into a painful charade.
The kitchen timer chimed softly, indicating the soup was ready. Chelsea ladled the golden broth into a bowl, adding tender pieces of chicken and soft noodles. Steam rose from the surface, carrying the promise of comfort and healing.