office?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You left your medication at home.”
He looked away.
For the first time in eleven years, I watched my husband struggle to find an answer to a direct question.
“I was going to tell you,” he said finally.
“When?”
He didn’t respond.
“Yesterday? Last night? This morning, when you kissed me goodbye and told me you were going to work?”
He rubbed his face.
“It’s complicated.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can’t. Not yet.”
I felt a wave of anger rise in my chest.
“Not yet? Eliam, you
