Page 22 of Hollow State

The laughter stopped.

Prewit removed his gloves and tossed them into the disposal container. He leaned against the opposite counter.

“You are the most empathetic man I have ever met,” Prewit said.

Darwin frowned. “You just said I don’t know how to talk about feelings.”

“Both things can be true," Prewit said. “You’re also an empath. That’s half your problem.”

“I’m a doctor. I pay attention to people.”

“You absorb people.” Prewit folded his arms. “You carry every loss as if you caused it. You walk into a room and know when someone is afraid before they even admit it to themselves. You’ll sit beside a patient for twelve hours because you know they shouldn’t wake up alone.”

“That doesn’t make me an empath.”

“It makes you a damn good doctor.” Prewit tilted his head. “But when it comes to your personal life, you have no idea how to read the people closest to you."

“I understand people just fine.”

“You get pain. Fear. Grief. You intuitively know what a stranger needs when their body or life is falling apart.” Prewit lowered his hand. “But when it comes to what people want from you, especially the people you care about, you become an absolute moron.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Darwin placed both hands on the counter. “What's your point?”

“I never disagreed that you didn't give Sarah what she wanted or needed near the end. But you always seem to forget your ex-wife had an affair.”

Darwin hated this conversation, and since Prewit didn't know everything, it became circular. “I emotionally left the marriage.”

"For fuck's sake," Prewit said. “She had an affair for two years, and you knew she was talking with him before she slept with him.”

Darwin stared at the patch in front of him and allowed some of the memories to breach the walls he’d so carefully crafted. He and Sarah had agreed on a plan when they first got married. They’d both known there would be sacrifices. They’d been so young, but they both believed they could handle it. That their love was strong enough to deal with his long hours in school. But the pressure of medicine, military, and personal tragedy had taken its toll. However, if he were being honest with himself, their problems had started before that.

“I don't understand why you ignore that fact,” Prewit continued. “You’ve always known it. Yet, every time you talk about the divorce, you reduce the entire marriage to what you did wrong.”

“I’m not saying she handled it well.”

“She didn’t handle it at all. She stayed married to you and slept with another man for two years.” Prewit unfolded his arms and pushed away from the counter. “You want to know why she didn’t leave you?”

This should be entertaining. “I assume you’re going to tell me.”

“As unhappy as Sarah was, there were things she didn’t want to give up.”

“That’s not fair, and you don't know everything.” Darwin had to admit, Prewit’s words stung. Not only were they hurtful to Sarah, but they were also true. Sarah had loved the idea of being a doctor's wife. And bragged about all the things Darwin wanted to do with research. What she didn't like was the route he had to take to get there.

The military hadn’t quite been what Sarah had envisioned. But it had been a means to an end.

“Maybe not, but I watched you destroy yourself trying to make that marriage work after you found out.” Prewit stepped closer. “Those first few months I watched you race home after rounds. I watched you suffer and I said nothing. Then I saw you dive into medicine and still suffer until Sarah's boyfriend offered her more than you could, and you had no fight left.”

Darwin swallowed.

He’d been twenty-six years old, sitting at the kitchen table while Sarah told him about how unhappy she'd been and how she'd never meant to fall in love with their neighbor. Darwin had listened to every detail and still managed to leave the conversation convinced he’d been the one who’d betrayed her. That he’d neglected her.

She had never gotten over the words that had tumbled out of his mouth a year into their marriage—and during a time of personal tragedy. He hadn't meant them to sound so cold or to be so cruel. He’d honestly believed he was being a kind and caring partner.

Prewit lowered his voice. “You weren’t the only person responsible for the breakup of your marriage. There are parts of that relationship you’ve never looked at honestly because you always accept responsibility when something fails. What she did doesn't make her evil. That's not what I'm saying,” Prewit said. “It doesn’t erase what you did wrong. But it does mean you weren’t solely responsible.”