I am her daughter-in-law.
– I understand. Then maybe you should go home for a few hours. You’ve been here almost all day.
– I can’t.
Why?
Her voice was slower.
“Because she will wake up and be alone.
I closed my eyes.
The doctor continued:
Your husband is coming.
– I know. But until he gets there, I’ll stay.
Then he said the phrase that made me feel a lump in my throat.
“She may not consider me her daughter, but I consider her my family.
I was still in bed.
For the first time, I remembered every single thing I had done to him.
Not from my perspective.
From hers.
I remembered my first dinner, when I had laughed at the way she had given a word.
I remembered how a cake made by her own time, and I had asked why he had not bought a “true” one from my confectionery.
I remembered the day her parents came from the village.
Her mother had brought me a jar of sweetness and a basket of vegetables from the garden.
I thanked them coldly, and after they had left, I had said to my husband:
I hope it doesn’t start coming too often.
I thought I was protecting my son.
In reality, I was protecting my own pride.
A few minutes later, she returned to the ward.
I pretended to sleep.
He pulled the chair by the bed and sat down.
After a while, I felt like he was arranging my blanket over my shoulder.
That’s it.
No reproach.
No revenge.
Just the care.
In the morning, when I woke up, he slept with his head leaning against the edge of the bed.
Still holding the bag with medication.
I’ve been looking at her for a long time.
