My Husband Overprotective
“What are you doing here?”
“I am taking you home so you can get sleep before your presentation,” Sylvia said, her voice crisp and sharp in the quiet lobby.
“You cannot sit in a hospital chair until five in the morning and lead a product launch at nine.”
I stood up from my chair, keeping June tucked against my shoulder.
The yellow triage wristband on her tiny arm crinkled against my shirt collar.
“Sylvia, what do you think you are doing?” I asked.