Heres the whole truth about your fiancée, his father said flatly, handing him a USB drive.
James kept glancing at his watch. Hed booked a table at The White Rosethe most exclusive restaurant in Manchester. Emily was already ten minutes late, and that always put him in a foul mood. Punctuality was one of the virtues he valued most.
With a sigh, he flipped through the menu again, though he already knew what hed order. Fatigue and the unsettling conversation with his father earlier had left his thoughts scattered. Just as he decided to call her, the restaurant door swung open.
“Darling! Sorry Im late!” Emily rushed to the table like a whirlwind in a pale blue dress that hugged her slim frame. She leaned down and brushed a light kiss on his lips. The scent of spring flowers and something achingly familiar instantly dissolved his annoyance.
“You know how much I hate waiting,” he muttered, trying to keep a stern face, but his lips curved into a smile. It was impossible to stay angry with her.
“But I,” she said with a playful glint in her eyes, “love seeing such a handsome man waiting for me in a restaurant. You wouldnt believe itgot stuck at a traffic light, then some old lady took forever to cross the road. Drove me mad!”
James laughed. “Let me guess, you spent half an hour on your makeup?”
“What! Twenty-five minutes, tops!” she protested, pretending to be offended.
He couldnt look away. Her chestnut hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, her blue eyes sparkled, and the dimples in her cheeks made her smile irresistible. Every time he looked at her, he couldnt believe his luck. Theyd met two years ago, dated for eighteen months, and been engaged for a year. And now
“To us?” He raised his champagne flute.
“To us,” Emily smiled, but something flickered in her eyes, twisting his insides.
They ordered and chatted easily about their day. She animatedly recounted her work at the clinic, a funny incident with a young patient, how the head doctor had praised her, calling her “the golden nurse.”
“What about you? Hows the project with your dad coming along?” she asked, popping a bite of salmon into her mouth.
“Fine,” James shrugged. “On schedule, but deadlines are tight as usual.”
Emily nodded, then casually asked, “Speaking of deadlines when are we finally setting a wedding date?”
James froze. Here it was. Again.
“Em, we talked about this. Once the projects done”
“Yes, yes, I remember,” she waved impatiently. “But its been six months! James, I dont want to wait anymore. Weve been engaged for a year. Whats the hold-up?”
“Im not stalling. Its just not the right time.”
“When will it be the ‘right time’? When Im fifty? I want to be your wife, understand? Not your girlfriend, not your fiancéeyour wife!”
“Emily, Im swamped”
“Oh, come on! As if youd have to do more than show up at the right place and time!”
“Its not about that,” James snapped. “I want everything to be perfect.”
“So do I!” she exclaimed. “And you know what would be perfect? A destination wedding! We talked about this. Ive even looked at brochuresMaldives, Bali, Seychelles, take your pick! They handle everything, we just show up.”
“Not this again! Do you need the glitz and glamour that badly? Or just bragging rights?”
Emily shoved her plate away. “Is that what you think? That Im with you for money? That I only care about some lavish wedding?”
“Isnt it?” The words slipped out before he could stop them. “All you talk about is the wedding, the trips, what you want to see. Never that you just want to be with me.”
“Youre impossible!” Her eyes welled up. “I just want to be your wife! And you keep making excuses! If you dont want to marry me, just say so!”
“Im not making excuses!” His raised voice drew glances from nearby diners. “Why do you keep pushing me?”
“Because I love you, you idiot! But you dont get it. Or maybe you just dont care!”
James stood abruptly and tossed a wad of cash on the table. “You know what? Im not doing this here. Call me when youve calmed down.”
He strode out, ignoring the waiters confused look and Emilys muffled sobs behind him.
***
James sped through the city, well over the limit. His latest-model BMW hugged the corners. He blasted music, trying to drown his thoughts, but it didnt help.
Why had things with Emily gotten so complicated? When they first met, everything was different. He remembered their first encounterhed gone to his fathers clinic for some documents. Richard William Harringtonone of the countrys top cardiologists and owner of a private healthcare chainnever mixed business with family matters. “Family keeps the business,” he always said.
James, the only son and heir, had grown up under scrutinyschool, university, work. Everyone treated him differently. By twenty-five, he was tired of women who only saw his wallet. Models, ambitious career women, socialitesall wore the same masks, their smiles hiding calculation.
Then he met Emily.
That day, shed been at the reception desk, filling out forms. A simple white nurses uniform, hair in a neat ponytail, nothing extra. When she looked up and smiled, something inside him shifted. Her gaze held no pretensejust warmth and light.
He found excuses to talk to her, then asked her for coffee, then dinner.
Emily was unlike anyone hed known. Grew up in an ordinary family, worked since sixteen, paid her own way. He loved her naturalness, her humor, her refusal to pretend. Nothing like the women in his world.
His mother, Margaret, adored her instantly. “Shes real, darling. Hold onto her,” shed said after their first meeting.
But his father Richard never spoke against her. Praised her professionalism. Yet whenever James mentioned long-term plans, something odd flickered in his eyes.
“Shes a good girl, James but not for you,” hed once said. That phrase stuck, planting doubt. Maybe his father saw something he didnt. Maybe Emily was like the othersjust better at hiding it.
Thoughts like these flared during arguments. When she pushed for the wedding, for grandeur, he remembered his exesall wanting lavish ceremonies, jewels, status.
“Damn it!” He slammed the wheel as the car jerked to a stop at a red light.
He loved Emily, no question. But tonight, shed cut so deep he actually considered breaking up. He wouldnt let anyone use himnot even her.
***
James got home near midnight. To his surprise, his father sat in the darkened living room, sipping whiskey.
“Cant sleep?” James slumped into a chair.
Richard studied him. “Waiting for you. Your mother called Emilywanted to invite you both for Sunday, but she was in tears. What happened?”
“Just a fight.”
“About?”
“Dad, not now.”
His father poured him a whiskey. “Drink. Itll help.”
James took a grateful sip. The burn dulled the tension.
“You know,” Richard said suddenly, “when I met your mother, my parents were against it.”
“Really? Never heard that.”
“People dont like remembering mistakes.” His father smirked. “They thought she was too plain for me. A nurse from the countrysideno match for a rising cardiologist from a prominent family.”
“Whatd you do?”
“Ignored them. Best decision of my life.”
Silence. James knew this wasnt casual.
“Did you fight about the wedding?” Richard asked bluntly.
James exhaled. “She keeps pressuring me. Why the delay, why no date. And this island wedding obsessionlike she just wants a spectacle.”
“Are you sure?”
“No,” James admitted. “But sometimes I wonder. You always act weird when I bring it up. Like youre hiding something.”
Richard held his gaze, then stood. “Wait here.”
He returned minutes later, handing James a small black USB drive. “Heres the truth about your fiancée.”
James stared at it. “What is this? You spied on her?”
“No. Just look. And Im sorry I didnt tell you sooner.”
Hands shaking, James plugged the drive into his laptop. Medical fileshis fathers clinics stamp. Reports, scans, test results.
“What is this Emily?”
Richard nodded. “Shes been my patient for five years. Thats why she joined the clinicto stay monitored.”
“Why didnt she tell me? Why didnt YOU?”
“Doctor-patient confidentiality. She begged me not to. Said shed handle it.”
“Handle it?” Jamess stomach dropped. The files
