“Yes. Every word.”
The doctor wrote the sentence exactly as Daniel had said it, then added the time and the names of the staff who had heard him through the door. The nurse told him he would not be entering my room.
Daniel struck the door with his palm. “She’s my wife.”
I pressed both hands against the blanket to stop them from shaking. “That is why I’m not leaving with you.”
A nurse placed the overnight bag Daniel had brought on the chair. Inside were three blue newborn sleepers, a pack of diapers, and nothing for me except my wedding ring in a plastic bag. He had packed for the son he expected to control and treated his injured wife like an item someone else could deal with.
I asked them to call Emily.
She arrived in jeans, worn sneakers, and the gray hoodie she always kept in her car. She did not ask why I had ignored her calls for months. She sat beside the bed, held my hand without squeezing the IV line, and waited until I could speak.
