“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re making this far more dramatic than it needs to be. It’s only a checkup. Push it back a few days. You’ll be fine.”

Not once did he ask how badly I felt. He didn’t offer to drive Rita himself. He never suggested she call a rideshare, ask a friend, or simply wait until my appointment was over.

As far as he was concerned, my role had already been assigned. I would chauffeur them to the mall, wait while they shopped, and hand over my credit card when it was time to pay.

I tightened my grip on the counter. For a second I almost lost my composure. I wanted to remind Gordon of every overnight emergency I’d handled while he slept peacefully beside me, every bill I’d paid, every shopping spree I’d funded for his mother, every time I’d sacrificed my own needs to keep them comfortable.