Chapter 5
I had asked him if he had eaten.
He had said yes.
He hadn’t.
I had assumed he was exhausted from surgery.
“He hasn’t been operating?” I asked.
“No,” Dr. Patel said. “He has been assisting with consultations, reviewing cases, and teaching residents.”
“Then why was he still at the hospital every night?”
David answered.
“Because he didn’t know how to be anywhere else.”
Something inside me broke—not loudly, but with a small, unmistakable crack.
Dr. Patel continued, “Marcus was diagnosed with a progressive nerve compression that requires surgery. He’s scheduled for the procedure tomorrow morning.”
I stared at her.
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
The word seemed to erase everything else in the room.
Tomorrow.
“He’s having surgery tomorrow?”
“He was supposed to tell you this morning.”
“Supposed to?”
“He planned to meet you at home tonight. He wanted to talk to you after Emily was asleep.”
I pushed back from the table.
“He planned to tell me after Emily was asleep?”
“He thought she shouldn’t have to see your reaction before he could explain.”
My chair scraped the floor.
“What reaction?”
Dr. Patel’s expression softened.
“Fear. Anger. Both.”
I looked at David.
He didn’t deny it.
A laugh escaped me, thin and humorless.
“He was protecting our daughter from seeing me react to the news that he might lose the use of his hand?”
“No,” Dr. Patel said gently. “He was protecting himself from seeing your fear.”
That stopped me.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
I thought about Marcus sitting at the kitchen table, staring at his right hand as though it belonged to a stranger.
I thought about the way he had pulled away when I reached for him in bed.
Not because he didn’t want me.
Because he was afraid I would feel him shaking.
The realization moved through me slowly, like cold water.
I had mistaken his silence for distance.
Maybe it had been shame.
Maybe he had believed that if he couldn’t operate, he would no longer be the man I married.
I sat down again.
“What happens tomorrow?”
Dr. Patel answered in the same calm voice she probably used with every frightened family.
“The procedure should take several hours. He’ll remain in the hospital for observation. Afterward, he’ll need physical therapy. He may have restrictions for weeks or months.”
“Will he be able to operate again?”
“We don’t know.”
The room seemed to lose all its air.