“Because you haven’t said it in a long time. And sometimes I still need to hear it to know that it’s true.”

“I love you, Claire. I always will.”

“I love you, too.”

He brings my hand to his lips, kisses the back of it, and holds it close to his cheek. He lowers the railing on the bed, and I pull him closer.

I stroke his damp hair, knowing that Chris is the one who needs reassuring now.

53

chris

Claire has fallen asleep again and she doesn’t wake up when the doctor walks into the room fifteen minutes later. He shakes my hand and keeps his voice low.

“Your wife is doing great,” he says, flipping through her chart. “Blood glucose looks good, there’s been no recurrence of ketosis, and she’s done fine with the switch back to her pump. She can go home tomorrow.”

“Great,” I say. “That’s wonderful to hear.”

“I’ll be back in the morning to go over some discharge instructions,” he says before he leaves the room.

“Okay.”

This report is a vast improvement compared to what they told me shortly after Claire and I arrived at the emergency room. She was barely conscious and they said if I hadn’t found her when I did, the outcome could have been tragic.

She asked me if I was going to leave. I could see it on her face, the fear that I might actually get on a plane tonight like I have for the last month. Despite the fact that we were having this conversation while she was lying in a hospital bed.

What the hell kind of husband would leave his wife alone after something like this?

She thought you might, Chris.

And if that didn’t drive home just how badly I need to make some changes, then I don’t know what would. The image of her lying on the bathroom floor and thinking about what might have happened if I hadn’t been home sends me over the edge.

I walk into the bathroom, shut the door, lean my head back against it, and cry.

54

daniel

Claire didn’t respond to any of my texts, and all my calls went straight to voice mail. Fearing the worst, I made myself wait twenty-four hours and then I started calling the hospitals. I got lucky on the first try when the woman who answered the phone at Shawnee Mission Medical Center confirmed that there was a person admitted the day before by the name of Claire Canton. They couldn’t tell me anything other than she was a patient, but I still felt relieved. The obvious reason for her dropping off the radar like that was her diabetes, but if she’s under medical care, then at least I’m no longer thinking the worst.

That was two days ago. Now I’m waiting for her to call me. I know she will as soon as she’s able. Part of me wanted to go down there, find out her room number, and see for myself that she was okay. But I couldn’t do that to her because as far as I know, her husband still doesn’t know about me.

And I sure as hell don’t think he’d understand why I was there.

55

claire

I wake up the next morning when a nurse comes in to take my vital signs. Chris is still asleep, slumped over in the chair. My mom walks in a few minutes later and my spirits lift instantly.

“Hi,” I say. I keep my voice low so I don’t wake Chris. “What time is it?” For some inexplicable reason, my room does not have a clock. I’ve lost all sense of time, especially since I can’t remember parts of my stay here, and I sleep in frequent, random intervals.

“A little after eight,” she says, bending down to give me a kiss. “Your dad will be here with the kids in about an hour. He’s taking them to breakfast at McDonald’s. Did the doctor say what time he’d be discharging you today?”

“Chris talked to him last night, while I was taking one of my many naps. I should be able to go home around noon.”

Chris wakes up when he hears us talking, stretching his legs out in front of him. He rises from the chair and approaches the bed. Resting one hand on the rail, he bends down and gives me a quick peck on the mouth. I like the kissing. It reminds me of before: before Chris lost his job, before I lost Chris. He used to kiss me all the time.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good. I’m ready to get out of here.”

“I’m going to run home and take a quick shower. I’ll be back to get you.”

“Okay.”

Chris returns an hour later, in time to listen as the doctor goes over my discharge instructions. When he tells me I’m free to go we start to gather my things.

“I brought your phone,” Chris says, handing it to me. “The battery was dead, so I plugged it in while I was in the shower. Looks like you’ve got enough of a charge to check your messages. I’m sure you have some.”

My stomach drops and my heart starts pounding as I pocket the phone, wondering whether Chris looked at the text history or the call log. He wouldn’t normally, but maybe he did this time because of the circumstances. He doesn’t seem angry or upset, though; he’s acting quite calm. Because he was gone so often I never really worried about Chris seeing a message from Daniel, and therefore, I never really had to face just how duplicitous it was. I realize I wouldn’t feel the way I’m feeling right now, wouldn’t feel the guilt and shame, if Chris knew about my friendship with Daniel. If I’d told Chris about him instead of hiding everything. “Thanks,” I say.

He smiles at me and we ride the elevator down to the lobby.

“Stay here,” he says, pointing to a bench near the door. “I’m going to bring the car around.”

“Okay.” I watch him walk away and then I pull my phone out of my pocket. After I punch in the code I listen. The first five voice mails are from Daniel. His voice sounds progressively more panicked as I listen to, and delete, each one. The last one says he’s called the hospitals and knows I’m alive. “I’m really scared, Claire.”

There are also seven missed calls and six texts from him. I tap out a quick reply. I’m okay. I’m so sorry you were worried.

He responds immediately. Are you home?

Not yet. I’m about to leave the hospital. I’ll call when I can.

I’ll be waiting. Take care of yourself.

I won’t be able to see Daniel anymore, and I’ve known this since he told me he wished I was his. You can’t go back to simply being friends after a declaration like that. And if my precarious mortality was the wake-up call Chris needed, the things he told me in response were mine. It will take both of us working together to repair this relationship.

Maybe I should come clean about my friendship with Daniel. Get it out in the open. Accept whatever ramifications come my way. But I know Chris will not understand my friendship with Daniel. Neither would I if he told me there was a woman he kept in nearly constant contact with. A woman he laughed with. A woman whose words brightened his day. A woman he told his secrets to. A woman who knew of his heartache. Would he believe me if I tell him that Daniel was just a friend?