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« So instead, » I said, « you decided to leave me first. Without asking me a single question about what I actually wanted. »
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« I know how you’d answer, » Griffin said. « You’d say you’re staying no matter what. That’s exactly why I couldn’t ask you directly. I needed to make this decision before you had the chance to talk me out of doing the one thing I actually think is right here. »
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« You don’t get to decide what’s right for both of us alone, » I said. « Not after fourteen months of doing everything together. Not after eleven years of marriage before that. »
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Griffin was quiet for a long moment, his hands still gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him steady.
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« I’m scared, » he finally admitted. « Genuinely, completely terrified, in a way I never let myself fully feel during the actual treatment, because I had to stay functional enough to get through it. Now that I’m supposedly on the other side of it, all I can think about is that this might just be a pause. Not an ending. And I don’t know how to ask you to keep signing up for that, over and over, for the rest of both our lives. »
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