Wendy decided against bringing Henry. "Forget it," she declared. "I'll go alone. Chase has a temper; he might offend you. Get some sleep. You need to take Joy to the hospital for her IV tomorrow. Don't dawdle." She left before Henry could protest, grabbing her keys and rushing out.

Henry remained in the living room for a long time, surveying the space before quietly entering Wendy and Chase's old bedroom. He'd noticed the absence of men's belongings since Chase's arrival, a detail Wendy seemed oblivious to. This simplified matters.

Chase, meanwhile, was still grappling with his passport issue, having missed the first exchange program. The frustration simmered; he knew Wendy orchestrated this, forcing him to reveal himself. For the sake of the divorce, he remained silent. His language classes had begun, and he juggled them with his hospital internship. His teacher, learning of his travel setback, advised him to wait for the next session. Fortuitously, a hospital that had contacted him months prior reached out again, and with his teacher's assistance, he secured his first job in five years. He moved to a different hotel, knowing Wendy could find him anywhere. Work and study consumed his week, a fulfilling busyness that rekindled his spirit. He felt alive again.

Unexpectedly, Henry brought Joy to Chase's hospital. "You must be Mr. Goodman," Henry said, his voice familiar. Chase, fresh from surgery, turned to see Henry smile. "Hello, I'm Henry." His voice matched the phone calls, and his face held the kind of appeal Wendy favored. Chase instinctively searched for Wendy, only to meet Stella's contemptuous gaze. "What are you doing here? Don't tell me you followed us," she sneered, certain Chase wouldn't abandon the family.

Chase nodded curtly to Henry and started to leave, but Henry blocked his path. "Mr. Goodman, can we talk?" Henry's forced smile unnerved Chase. He was merely the discarded ex-husband; what was there to discuss? "I'm working," Chase stated flatly. Before Henry could reply, Stella interjected sharply, "Henry's giving you face—you'd better know how to take it!"

Their raised voices drew attention. Chase sighed. "What do you want?" Henry gestured towards the emergency exit, its light askew, the floor littered with cigarette butts. "You moved out, Mr. Goodman?" Henry asked, his words implying ownership. Chase scoffed. "Mr. Henry, you know. Why humiliate me?"

Henry paused, then asked, "Mr. Goodman, are you using this to keep Wendy thinking about you?" The thought hadn't occurred to Chase, but the possibility intrigued him. He scoffed at his own naiveté. "I'm divorcing Wendy. I should be overseas. If it weren't for—" A sliver of hope lingered—had Wendy stopped him? But she'd been preoccupied with Henry and Joy. What was he hoping for?

"I don't believe you'd give up a big tree like Wendy," Henry said mockingly. "To you, she's just shade, huh?" Chase started to leave. Henry, with a cold laugh, produced a fruit knife, slashing his arm. "Chase, you want a divorce, right? Let me help you with that…"

Chase spun around, but Henry was already wounded. Blood flowed. Chase, a doctor, felt a surge of revulsion. He rushed out, shouting, "Emergency surgery—now!" Stella intercepted him. "What did you do?" Chase, irritated, retorted, "If you're worried about your crush, check on him yourself." Stella's excessive concern for Henry had always been suspicious. Her reaction confirmed Chase's suspicions. She bolted into the stairwell.

Wendy arrived swiftly, alerted by Stella. Henry's injury was superficial; he'd only nicked a vein, but it provided Wendy with a reason to storm in. "You stabbed Henry?" she demanded. Chase laughed bitterly. "That's what you think of me?" Wendy retorted, "Isn't it true? You're making a scene because of him!" To her, his actions were a jealous outburst.

"He cut himself."

"You think Henry would self-harm to frame you? You really think you're worth that?" Her words stung. "He set me up," Chase insisted. "Why can't you believe me?" He longed for her belief, but his hope always met the same fate. "You'd better pray he's fine," Wendy snarled, leaving the door ajar.

In the treatment room, Wendy sat beside Henry. "Wendy, did I upset Mr. Goodman?" Henry asked. Wendy couldn't shake Chase's expression from her mind. Had she misjudged him? Henry continued, "If I'm causing trouble, I can take Joy to a hotel." Joy still had a fever, and the events of the day felt excessive, childish. Had she been too lenient with Henry? "No," she reassured him. "You didn't do anything wrong. He hurt you—I'll make sure he apologizes." Henry smiled faintly.

Stella burst in. "Sis, Chase stabbed Henry!"

"Whatever. Once his passport's ready, he'll be out of our lives anyway!"

Wendy froze. "He's leaving?"

Stella, startled, replied, "He's going abroad. You didn't know?"