Chapter 5 - The Weight of Hidden Truths
By the second week, Lydia was finally moved out of the ICU and into a private recovery room. The oxygen mask was gone, replaced by a simple nasal cannula. Her color had returned, but her eyes remained shadowed by a deep, systemic weariness.
Nathan sat by her bedside while the girls were down the hall in the hospital playroom. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic dripping of the IV.
"Arthur called me," Lydia said softly, her eyes fixed on the window. "He tracked down the hospital line. He told me you're destroying your life's work."
"Arthur is an idiot who thinks a balance sheet can keep you warm at night," Nathan replied without looking up from the apple he was peeling for her. He sliced a neat piece and offered it to her. "Don't listen to him."
Lydia took the fruit, her fingers brushing his. She shivered slightly at the contact. "Nathan... we need to talk about what happens next. You can't stay in Portland forever. You have a life in Chicago. A massive, complicated life."
"My life is right here," Nathan said fiercely. He set the knife down, turning his full attention to her. "Lydia, why didn't you look for me? Even if you were angry at me, even if you hated me for what I said that night... how could you keep them from me? Every year on their birthday, I was sitting alone in a penthouse, staring at a wall, while my daughters were blowing out candles a few states away."
A tear slipped down Lydia’s cheek, catching the sterile light of the room. "I didn't hate you, Nathan. That’s what you don't understand. I loved you so much that watching you turn into a ghost inside our own apartment was killing me. When I found out I was pregnant with triplets, I was terrified. I knew what triplets would do to your career. You were sleeping three hours a night just trying to get the company off the ground. If I had brought three newborns into that mix, you would have stayed out of obligation, and you would have grown to resent us. I wanted to protect them from that."
"So you let them grow up thinking their father didn't care?" Nathan’s voice cracked with a devastating mix of sorrow and anger.
"No!" Lydia said, her voice rising with sudden energy. "I never told them you didn't care. I told them you were a good man who was building a safe world for people. I showed them pictures of your buildings, your technology. I made you a hero to them, Nathan. Because to me, you still were."
Nathan buried his face in his hands. The sheer weight of her sacrifice—and her misguided protection—crushed him. She hadn't kept them away out of malice; she had kept them away out of a profound, tragic belief that she was saving him from a burden he wasn't ready to carry.
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"I was ready, Lydia," he whispered into his palms. "I would have given it all up for you. For them. If you had just told me, I would have burned Westfield to the ground myself."
Lydia reached out, her hand resting on the back of his head, her fingers weaving through his hair just like she used to do seven years ago when the world grew too loud. "I know that now," she whispered. "Seeing you with them these past two weeks... I see who you really are. I’m sorry, Nathan. I’m so sorry I took those years from you."
