“Keep reading,” Wade said.
I gave him a look sharp enough that he lifted both hands.
“Don’t instruct me.”
“You’re right.”
“I don’t need you to tell me what to do in my own house.”
“No.”
“And stop agreeing with me like I’m unstable.”
His mouth tightened. “Meryl, I am agreeing because you’re right.”
That shut me up for a moment.
I hated that too.
I picked up the letter.
The night before your first treatment, I packed because I knew hesitation was dangerous. If I sat beside you one more morning, I would tell you. If I watched them put the line in your arm, I would tell you. If you got sick and asked me not to leave, I would never leave.
My fingers went cold.
The bedroom appeared around me so vividly that the hallway vanished. Randall’s brown suitcase on the bed. His shirts folded in stacks. My hands useless at my sides.
