Maybe she still loved him. She probably did. But underneath that love was fear. Fear that if she walked away, he would fall apart.
Or worse.
And every single person around her, me most of all, had been cheering her on for staying.
The nurses adored her. Mark’s sister had called her “the best thing that ever happened to this family.” Her own mother had told me, over coffee in the hospital lobby, how proud she was of her daughter for being so loyal. Not one of us had stopped to wonder what it was costing her. We’d all just kept handing her more to carry and calling it love.
I sank back into the chair. My legs simply wouldn’t hold me.
For a long time, neither of us said anything. The television kept chattering away about the weather, as if the world hadn’t just cracked open in that little room.
