A Nurse Mentioned the Woman Visiting My Dying Husband—Then She Came to My Door With a Letter About a Five-Year-Old Boy

“Maybe start with me,” he suggested with a faint smirk.

“You are the least trustworthy one,” I replied, forcing a smile.

“We have been together since high school,” Simon reminded me gently.
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“Exactly, so I have evidence,” I countered without hesitation.

He smiled tiredly. “You are terrifying.”

“Good, because cancer should be terrified of me,” I told him fiercely.

He laughed, then coughed until he had to grip the edge of the table tightly. That was us, where I organized and Simon joked, while neither of us said the obvious thing out loud.
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During his last few months, Simon started disappearing for long stretches of time.

“Where were you?” I asked him one afternoon when he walked back through the front door.
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