Voicemail.
“Enough!”
I pushed back the blanket and tried to swing my legs over the edge of the bed.
Voicemail.
The pain hit like a hot wire through my belly.
I gasped and nearly folded in half.
“Whoa, whoa, easy.” The nurse was at my side in a second, lowering me back onto the pillows. “You just had major surgery. You can’t go anywhere yet.”
The pain hit
I lay there, breathing hard, tears stinging.
Was this what it came to? Ten years of fighting, and I couldn’t even chase my own husband down.
I couldn’t fetch him and make him look at me. And I had two newborns who needed me, in a body that wouldn’t obey.
Was this what it came to?
This was the exact moment I’d planned to lean on Andrew, and he was the one who had walked out.
