Her tirade ended in a fit of coughing that she couldn''t seem to stop. Lionel immediately called for a doctor. After a quick examination confirmed it was nothing serious, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.


    "Mrs. Rosenberg Sr. is still very weak," the doctor advised. "As her family, you should avoid upsetting her. Try to be agreeable."


    "Of course. Thank you, doctor," Hannah said.


    Lionel stood beside her, his voice a low hiss. "You knew this would upset her, but you said it anyway. Are you happy now?"


    Hannah turned to face him. "The only reason I had to say anything is because of what you did. Lionel, why do you always have to shift the me onto me?"


    She looked at the man she once adored, the man who had been the center of her universe, the one she had striven to stand beside as an equal. Now, his every move, every expression, filled her with a sense of revulsion.


    "You can''t keep hurting me just because I used to love you, Lionel. I won''t cover for you anymore. Your mistakes are your own."


    She turned away, not sparing him another nce, and walked back into the hospital room. She stayed for a long time, chatting with Mrs. Rosenberg Sr. while Lionel waited outside, not wanting to upset the old woman further.


    Over an hourter, Hannah finally emerged. She nced at Lionel, who she had assumed would have left by now, and walked toward the elevators without a word. As they waited in silence, their conversation was interrupted by hushed whispers from nearby.


    "Isn''t that the guy from the news? He''s so handsome."


    "Oh my god, he''s even better looking in person. He and Sandra are perfect for each other, a match made in heaven."


    "Are they a couple or are they married? I haven''t heard anything about a wedding. Maybe they''re still just dating?"


    Hannah heard every word. Annoyed, she took a deliberate step away from him, creating a clear distance between them to avoid any further misunderstanding.


    The elevator doors opened, and Hannah walked in first, retreating to the farthest corner. Lionel tried to follow but a small crowd pustied him to the other side, separating them.


    "Hey, buddy, this is the main floor. You getting out or not? The basement is the morgue, don''t just stand there!" someone called out as he stood frozen.


    "Right," he mumbled, stepping out. He noticed Hannah hadn''t moved and frowned, reaching back in to pull her out.


    The moment his fingers touched her, she recoiled as if shocked, yanking her arm away. Realizing they were on the right floor, she exited with a cold expression. "What were you thinking about?" Lionel asked.


    As he approached, she instinctively sidestepped again, maintaining a careful distance.


    "Stay away from me," she said coolly, her eyes meeting his. "I don''t want anyone taking our picture and getting the wrong idea about our rtionship."


    "The wrong idea about our rtionship? We''re literally—"


    "Secretly married," Hannah cut him off. "So secretly that almost no one in your circle even knows you''re married, Mr. Rosenberg. So let''s keep our distance. From now on, let''s avoid going out together unless it''s absolutely necessary don''t want to end up in the tabloids and be gossip fodder."


    "After all," she added, her voice sharp with memory, "you were the one who told me you never wanted anyone to know about us. You


    warned me never to be seen with


    you."


    With that, Hannah pulled a face mask from her purse, put it on, and strode purposefully toward the car.