“We don’t.”
That was the first moment I became afraid.
Not nervous.
Not uncomfortable.
Afraid.
The kind of fear that turns every detail crystalline.
The doctor’s crooked glasses.
The dried blue ink on Daniel’s thumb.
The air-conditioning vent rattling above us.
The wedding manicure I had gotten the day before.
Pale pink nails.
One chipped already.
“My sister-in-law is getting married,” I said.
The doctor looked surprised.
Daniel shut his eyes.
“Claire.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost eleven.”
“The ceremony’s at four.”
The doctor glanced between us.
“Mrs. Whitmore, you’ll be in surgery.”
I laughed.
Or tried to.
It came out as a broken sound.
Daniel bent over me.
“I’m staying.”
“You should go after I’m under.”
“No.”
“Daniel.”
“No.”
“Megan needs you.”
“You need me more.”
I looked at him.
For years, his instinct had been to divide himself neatly between his wife and his family.
To make everyone comfortable.
To smooth every disagreement.
To prevent any rupture.
But something in his face that morning was different.
Maybe because the rupture this time was inside me.
Real.
Visible.
Potentially deadly.
He kissed my forehead.
“I’m not leaving you.”
Then he stepped into the hallway to call Megan.
I could hear only his side.
“Meg, it’s bad.”
Pause.
“No. Appendix.”
Pause.
“Ruptured.”
Longer pause.
Then his voice cracked.
“She needs surgery.”
Another silence.
“No, I’m staying.”
He listened.
Then whispered, “Thank you.”
When he returned, his eyes were wet.
“Megan says not to even think about the wedding. She says she loves you.”
Relief washed through me.
Then Daniel’s phone rang again.
He looked at the screen.
His shoulders stiffened.
“Mom.”
I closed my eyes.
“Answer.”
He did.
“Hi, Mom.”
I heard Linda’s voice immediately.
Even from several feet away.
Sharp.
Fast.
Daniel walked toward the window.
“No, she didn’t faint because she was anxious.”
Pause.
“They did scans.”
Pause.
“No, Mom.”
His jaw tightened.
“She has a ruptured appendix.”
Linda’s voice rose.
Daniel turned away from me.
“I’m not discussing whether the timing is convenient.”