Possibly consent if his condition deteriorated.

Alistair and I had been married for seven years.

We did not have children.

That was why the words wife and son froze me outside the intensive-care doors.

“My name is Jacqueline Ross.”

I took out my identification.

“Jacqueline Finch legally.”

The nurse checked again.

Her expression changed.

“I’m going to get the charge nurse.”

Before she moved away, I looked through the narrow window in the ICU door.

Alistair lay beneath white blankets.

Bandages wrapped his head.

An oxygen mask covered his face.