There was a longer than normal pause before his secretary responded. “I’m sorry, but it was my understanding that Mr. Hunter was having his surgery today. He didn’t come in.”

“Oh, right. I just had a brain freeze. I’m sorry.” She hung up her phone and immediately called Diane. “Phil is having surgery?” she asked as soon as Diane answered.

“Not anymore. He had it this morning.”

“Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I never thought about telling you. I guess I assumed you—”

“Where is he?” Lina interrupted.

“His plan was to recover at his brother’s over the weekend.”

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe no one told me my husband was having surgery.”

“Don’t you mean your estranged husband? Last time we spoke, you sounded like you were on the road to divorce.”

“He’s still my children’s father. I should know if he’s having surgery.”

“It was his hand, Lina, not his heart. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“I’ve got to go.” She slammed the phone down. She should have been told. He’d taken the kids to dinner the night before and could easily have come into the house and let her know.

“Did you decide?” Katie asked, coming up behind her.

“Did you know your dad was having surgery on his hand today?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No one told me.”

“Oh. Can I spend the night at Emma’s?”

“Yes. Get your things. I’ll take you now.”

“Lina?” Her sister-in-law, Jeanie, stepped back from the door. “I didn’t know —.”

“How is he?” she interrupted. She hadn’t spoken to Jeanie in the week since Phil left, but clearly the other woman knew of the separation.

“I think he’s asleep.” She twisted her hands together. “Mike just told me everything last night. I’m in shock. I was going to call you tonight.”

“It’s fine.” She liked Jeanie, but they’d never been particularly close, and she had no desire to discuss her marriage with her. “Where is he?”

It had been six days since he left, but the man lying asleep on the bed looked so different he may as well have been a stranger. He had a beard—not a full beard, but he was well on his way, the lower part of his face completely obscured by his dark scruff. And he’d clearly lost weight. His collarbones, visible through the V-neck opening of a white T-shirt, were more prominent than she could ever remember. His right hand, thick with gauze reaching almost to his elbow, was propped up on some pillows. His mouth was open slightly, and his chest was rising and falling with his breathing.