“I know.”
He swallowed.
“They said I’m going to be okay.”
“Good.”
One word.
His eyes searched my face.
“That’s all you’re going to say?”
I almost couldn’t believe it.
Even here, bruised and frightened in a hospital bed, some part of Evan was still waiting for me to resume my assigned role.
Wife arrives.
Wife cries.
Wife takes hand.
Wife forgets everything because something scarier happened.
“What would you like me to say?”
“I don’t know.” His voice tightened.
“Maybe that you’re glad I’m okay?”
“I am glad you’re okay.”
He watched me.
“But?”
“There doesn’t have to be a but.
I can be glad you’re alive and still remember what happened between us.”
His expression changed.
“Lauren, seriously? Tonight?”
There was the man from the kitchen.
The same disbelief that consequences could arrive on a schedule he hadn’t approved.
“I’m not starting this conversation,” I said.
“You are.”
He looked away.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he muttered, “Nick shouldn’t have called you if he was just going to stir everything up.”
I felt a strange calm move through me.
“He told me what you actually said to them.”
Evan went still.
The monitor continued its soft rhythm beside him.
“What did he tell you?”
“That I was comfortable.
Predictable.
That your promotion meant you could attract something better.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“He also told me you said I’d get over it because I always do.”
Evan’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
That silence was the first completely honest thing he’d given me in weeks.
I pulled the visitor’s chair closer but didn’t sit.
“Do you know what I did the day you told me your friends thought I wasn’t special enough for you?”
He frowned.
“What?”
“I canceled Portland.”
His eyes widened.
Our anniversary trip was supposed to be the following month.
“You what?”
“I canceled the hotel.
Then I returned your promotion gift.”
“What gift?”
“An engraved watch.”
His face changed again.
