Chapter 4
“He’s my colleague.”
“He’s my husband.”
“I know.”
“No, David. You don’t know what it feels like to stand beside someone every day and believe you’re sharing a life with him, only to find out that everyone else has been sharing a secret.”
His face tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at the lunch bag.
“I brought him pie.”
David followed my gaze.
“You always bring him pie?”
“When I’m trying to remind him he has a home.”
The words came out before I could stop them.
David looked away.
A knock sounded at the door.
Neither of us answered.
A moment later, the door opened a few inches and a woman in a white coat stood there.
Dr. Patel.
I recognized her from the hospital’s charity gala, where she and Marcus had spent most of the evening discussing a complicated case while I refilled my own glass of water.
She had kind eyes and silver hair cut close to her jaw.
“May I come in?” she asked.
I nodded.
She entered and closed the door behind her.
“I’m sorry you had to learn this from anyone but Marcus,” she said.
“Then why did I learn it from David?”
She looked at him.
David said nothing.
Dr. Patel pulled out the third chair and sat beside him.
“Because Marcus has been trying to tell you for months and losing his nerve every time.”
“That doesn’t explain why nobody else did.”
“No,” she said. “It doesn’t.”
I studied her face.
“Is he sick?”
She took a careful breath.
“He has cervical spinal stenosis with nerve compression. The narrowing in his spine has been affecting the nerves that control sensation and fine motor strength in his right hand.”
I heard the words, but they seemed to pass through me without settling.
“Can it be treated?”
“Yes.”
“Can it be fixed?”
“Treatment can relieve the pressure and prevent further damage. But recovery is not always immediate, and there are no guarantees.”
“What does that mean for his work?”
Dr. Patel folded her hands.
“It means he cannot operate right now.”
I blinked.
“Right now?”
“He stopped operating three weeks ago.”
The room went silent.
Three weeks.
I thought of the last three weeks.
The birthday dinner he had missed.
The Saturday he had taken Emily to the park and spent the entire time sitting on a bench while she chased pigeons.
The night he had come home after midnight and stood in the hallway with his coat still on.