The nurse stepped closer. “Ma’am, please stay calm.”
“I want to leave,” I said. “Right now!”
Nigel reached for my hand, but I pulled away.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Ma’am, please stay calm.”
Within minutes, I was in a wheelchair, overwhelmed by bright lights and unfamiliar faces.
Nigel followed as they rolled me down the hallway.
“Please,” he said. “Just hear me out.”
“I can’t,” I replied.
Outside, the sky stretched wide and blue. It was the first sky I had seen in years, and it felt cruel that the man who gave it back to me was the one who’d taken it away.
“Just hear me out.”
A cab that the nurse had called for me arrived.
I didn’t look at Nigel again.The ride home was a blur of color and motion. Trees. Traffic lights. Storefronts. The world felt too big.
When I stepped inside our house, everything looked foreign. The couch was gray. The walls were pale yellow. Family photos lined the hallway.
