Rosie becoming more confident.
Rosie telling Dad that she would make her own holiday plans.
Ben never speaking for her when she was present.
Their marriage had never been an act.
The deception had been real.
But so was their love.
“I hated you,” I whispered.
Ben nodded.
“For about two minutes, I hated you more than I have ever hated anyone.”
“I understand.”
“Do not say that.”
“Okay.”
“If she dies—”
My voice failed.
Ben covered his face.
“She cannot.”
Fast footsteps echoed down the corridor.
We both turned.
The doctor was approaching.
One look at his face made my knees weaken.
Ben stood so quickly that he nearly fell.
Before the doctor reached us, the elevator doors opened.
My parents stepped out.
My mother carried her coat neatly over one arm.
My father was adjusting his cuff links.
They walked toward us with worried expressions that suddenly looked rehearsed.
