The corridor felt lighter when the doors closed.
Ben leaned against the wall.
“I am sorry I did not tell you.”
I looked at him.
“You should have.”
“I know.”
“You should never have helped them keep something this serious from me.”
“I know.”
“But you did not marry Rosie because of that contract.”
“No.”
“You loved her.”
“From the time she waited beside the window for my bicycle.”
His voice cracked.
“I just did not understand what kind of love it was until we were older.”
A nurse appeared in the doorway.
“She is awake.”
Ben’s entire body went still.
“Can I see her?”
“She is asking for you.”
He took one step, then turned toward me.
“She asked for Cathy too.”
The nurse smiled.
We walked into the recovery room together.
Rosie looked impossibly small beneath the blankets.
Her face was pale.
Tubes and monitors surrounded her.
Yet the moment she saw us, she smiled.
“There you are,” she whispered.
Ben reached her first.
He bent over the bed and pressed his forehead against hers.
“You scared me.”
