My husband left his medication at home, so I stopped by his office to bring it to him. But when I asked the receptionist to call him downstairs, she said, "Ma'am, your husband has been on leave for the past week."

And he laughed. And then I laughed, because he had.

And he said nothing, forget it.

And I let him forget it. Inside about four seconds, sitting on the end of my own bed, because I had an early start — and because the alternative was a conversation.

The second was about three weeks after that. In a car.

Which is apparently where this entire family conducts all of its business.

He said: "If something happened to me, would you be all right?"

Eleven words. Out of nowhere, on a Tuesday, going to his mother's.

And I said: "Don't be morbid."

Two words. On a dual carriageway. Eyes forward.

Two words. On a dual carriageway. With my husband four months into something with a number on it, sitting eighteen inches away from me.

Don't be morbid.

He never tried a third time.

Five weeks after that, he rang my sister.
PART 5