“Not unless that’s what you want.”
I looked toward the door.
“Me first.”
“Then you first.”
When Daniel entered later, I told him.
He nodded.
“Okay.”
No disappointment.
No wounded silence.
Just okay.
That one word made me unexpectedly emotional.
“What?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Nothing.”
For once, he let nothing remain nothing.
The surgery lasted several hours.
When I woke, the world arrived in fragments.
Lights.
Voices.
Dry mouth.
Pain dulled beneath medication.
Then Dr. Patel.
“Emily?”
I opened my eyes.
“The surgery went well.”
I tried to speak.
“Benign appearance,” she said. “We’ll wait for pathology, but I am very optimistic.”
Relief flooded through me so intensely that tears slid into my hair.
“It was a fibroid?”
“A very large one.”
“How large?”
She smiled slightly.
“Large enough that Daniel’s measurements weren’t imaginary.”
Even half sedated, I laughed.
Then cried harder.
Not because Daniel had been right.
