The hospital corridor stretched long and dim, the scent of antiseptic heavy in the air. Margaret tightened her grip on the paper bag of groceries as she followed the nurses brusque directions. Hospitals had always unsettled herthe hushed voices behind closed doors, the squeak of trolley wheels. She hadnt stepped into one since her mother passed away in a place just like this.
She found the right door at last and knocked lightly before entering. Four beds filled the room, but her eyes found him at once. Edward lay by the window, pale beneath the thin blankets, his eyes closed. A vase of wilted daisies sat on the nightstand.
“Eddie,” she whispered, stepping closer.
He stirred, blinking up at her in surprise. “Maggie? How did you know I was here?”
“Sarah Wilkins mentioned it. Ran into her at the marketasked why I hadnt seen you about. She told me.”
She set the bag down and took the chair beside him. He looked frail, his cheeks hollow, his eyes dull. Not the lively man she remembered.
“What happened?”
“Just my heart,” he said with a weak wave. “Doctors called it a mild heart attack.”
“Good heavens, Eddie. I had no idea.”
“Why would you? Its not as though we talk much these days.”
There was no bitterness in his voice, only resignation. Theyd drifted apart after he married Linda. The odd nod at the shops or a polite exchange at the bus stopnothing more.
“Brought you some things,” she said, unpacking jars of homemade preserves. “Pickled cucumbers, stewed tomatoes, cherry compote. I remember how you liked them.”
“Thank you, Maggie,” he said, managing a small smile. “Thats kind of you.”
“What do the doctors say? When will they let you out?”
“Next week, if all goes well. But its a strict diet from now on, and pills. Healthy living, they call it.”
She nodded. She wanted to ask about Lindawhy his wife wasnt herebut hesitated. Perhaps she was working, or busy at home.
“Hows Linda? Has she been in to see you?”
Edward turned his face toward the window. “Lindas… not my wife anymore. We divorced.”
“What?” Margaret nearly stood. “When?”
“Three months back, though wed been living apart longer.”
“Eddie, what on earth happened?”
He was quiet a moment, staring at something beyond the glass. “She said shed fallen out of love. Wanted a fresh start. The usual story.”
Margaret didnt know what to say. Theyd been married eight years. Linda had her salon, Edward worked at the factorycomfortable, if not wealthy. Theyd bought a house, a car.
“Did the heart attack…?”
“Who knows? The doctors said stress mightve played a part. But my hearts been dodgy for a while. I just ignored it.”
“Where are you living now? Who kept the house?”
“She did. I moved back in with Mum. Lucky she had the space, or Id have been in a right state.”
Margaret remembered Edwards mother, Agnes. A stern but kind woman whod always been fond of her. A shame the flat was so small.
“How did it come to this, Eddie? I remember your weddinghow happy you both looked.”
“So did I,” he sighed. “But people change, Maggie. Thought love was forever. Turns out it wasnt.”
She knew that pain too well. Her own husband, Geoffrey, had left her for another woman when their daughter, Emily, was just a girl. Now Emily was married herself, living up in Leeds.
“Eddie, is there any chance you two might…?”
“None. Shes with someone else now. Says shes finally known true love.”
The words stung. She pictured him alone in that tiny flat, nursing his broken heart.
“Im sorry for prying. Its just such a shock.”
“Dont be. Its good to talk. I cant burden Mum with it.”
She pulled a thermos from her bag. “Tea. Hot, with honey and lemon. Good for the heart.”
“You always did take care of me,” he said, accepting the cup. “I remember.”
She remembered too. Twenty years ago, when they were young and foolish, planning a future together. Then Geoffrey had swept incharming, ambitious, full of promises. Shed been a fool to choose him. Five years of marriage, a child, and hed left her for another woman.
“Eddie, I want to apologize,” she said suddenly.
“What for?”
“For what happened back then. It was cruel.”
He set the cup aside and looked at her. “Maggie, that was a lifetime ago. Why dredge it up now?”
“Because I shouldve said it sooner. Seeing you here, like thisI realize the mistakes weve both made.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
“Not everyone throws away something good for empty promises.”
He reached out, covering her hand with his. “I never held it against you. Hurt like hell at the time, but if someone can walk away, it wasnt real love. We just werent meant to be.”
“Neither were Geoffrey and I,” she said with a sad smile. “So I lost you both.”
“But youve got Emily. Sarah says shes done well for herself.”
“Youve heard?”
“Bits and pieces. Married well, works as a doctor. You must be proud.”
She was. Emily was her joy.
“You and Linda never had children?”
“No. She didnt want them. Always some excuse. Now I see she just didnt want them with me.”
A nurse entered with his medication. Margaret stepped aside.
“How are we feeling?” the nurse asked.
“Alright, thanks.”
“Lets check your blood pressure. And you,” she said to Margaret, “are you family?”
Margaret faltered. *Family? An old flame?*
“She is,” Edward answered for her.
The nurse nodded and set to work. When she left, the room felt heavier.
“Eddie, what will you do now? After they discharge you?”
“Dunno. Cant work yet. Mum says shell put me to work in her garden. Keeps a plot down the allotment.”
“Fresh air will do you good.”
“Yeah. And you? Still on your own?”
“Got used to it. Emily calls often. Promises grandchildren someday.”
“Grandkids are a blessing. Id have liked that.”
The longing in his voice twisted her heart. A man of fifty-three, alone, unwell, with no family of his own. Life could be cruel.
“Eddie, shall we swap numbers? Ill check in on you.”
“Please. And give me yoursjust in case.”
They traded digits, her old flip phone to his smartphone.
“Need any help when youre out? Cooking, cleaning?”
“Thanks, Maggie, but Mumll manage. Dont want to trouble you.”
“Dont be silly. Were friends.”
“Friends,” he repeated, smiling. “I like the sound of that.”
The doctor arrivedan older man in a white coatand checked Edwards charts.
“Improving. If this keeps up, well discharge you Monday. But remember: no stress, stick to the diet, take your meds.”
“I will.”
“And its good youve family visiting,” the doctor said, nodding at Margaret. “Moral support speeds recovery.”
After he left, Edward glanced at the clock. “Its getting late. You should head home.”
“I suppose so,” she said, rising. “Last bus soon.”
“Thank you for coming,” he said quietly. “Means more than you know.”
“I couldnt stay away. Not after all these years.”
She gathered the empty bag and thermos.
“Ill come tomorrow, if thats alright. Bring some proper soup.”
“More than alright.”
She kissed his cheekfriendly, but her pulse fluttered.
“Get some rest.”
“Ill try.”
At the door, she nearly collided with a womantall, blonde, in a sharp coat and heels. Linda. Thinner now, hair lighter, face younger.
“Eddie, hello,” Linda said, ignoring Margaret. “How are you?”
“Well enough,” he said coolly.
“I brought flowers,” she said, setting roses on the nightstand. “And grapes.”
Margaret hesitated, unsure whether to leave or stay.
Linda finally noticed her. “And you are?”
“This is Margaret,” Edward said. “An old friend.”
Lindas eyes narrowed. “Margaret? *The* Margaret? The one who left you for that flashy bloke?”
Her tone dripped with disdain. Margaret felt her cheeks burn.
“Linda, dont,” Edward said softly.
“Why not?” Linda turned on Margaret. “What are you doing here? Come to fawn over your ex?”
“I heard Eddie was ill. I came to see him
