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PART 2
Susan sat in front of me for a long time before she finally began to speak.
The way she kept looking at the box instead of at me made it clear that what she was about to tell me had been between us for much longer than I had realized.
She said Michael had known he was seriously ill for several months before his death.
He had tests carried out in February and received the results.
And yet he came home every evening as if nothing had changed.
He helped with choosing baby names.
He was discussing strollers with me.
He assembled one of the baby beds incorrectly and laughed when I noticed.
And all the while he knew there was a real possibility that he would never meet the children we were so looking forward to.
To be honest, at first I thought I had misunderstood Susan.
Then I remembered the documents I had once seen in his car.
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He had hastily shoved these documents into the glove compartment and labeled them as work documents.
They were not working documents.
I asked Susan how long she had known.
She lowered her gaze.
« Since March. »
This answer hurt almost as much as the realization that Michael himself had known all along.
She had been sitting in my kitchen for months.
She had folded baby clothes together with me.
She had helped me to set up the children’s room.
She had listened to my plans for what Michael and I would do after the twins were born.
And all the while she knew that he might not be there for any of those moments.
I asked her why she hadn’t told me anything.
She did not defend herself.
She said Michael begged her to be silent.
He believed that every single day of my pregnancy would become a countdown once I learned the truth.
Every doctor’s appointment would remind us that our time together was coming to an end.
Every happy moment would have been accompanied by the fear that it might be our last.
Susan said he told her:
« Let them spend these months without this fear. »
I got angry.
I told her that those months had also belonged to me.
I said I had the right to know what happened to my husband.
And none of them had the right to decide for me what I could handle and what I couldn’t.
Susan just nodded.
She didn’t say that Michael had been right.
She didn’t say that she had done the right thing either.
She simply said:
« I know. »
That only made everything more difficult.
Then I looked at the box again.
Part of me wanted to keep them closed.
Another part needed to know what Michael had done in the last months of his life.
I opened it.
Inside were two smaller boxes, several sealed envelopes, and a larger envelope with my name on it.
In the first box was Michael’s old watch, which he had worn almost every day since his student days.
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