I look up at the sound of the voice, surprised to find the petite nurse from the ICU station peeking her head into the waiting room. Glancing around, I notice there is no one else in here and realize she’s speaking to me. “Not unless you can tell me how she’s doing,” I murmur. The clock on the wall tells me that I’ve been sitting here for six hours without a single person talking to me except for my family via cell phone. I’m the pariah, the asshole who slept with a married man’s woman, and now I’m banned from the third floor with no hope of getting another glimpse of Beaux.

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