What I never expected was to spend the next twenty-one days waiting for my husband to act like one had been given to us.

Chapter 3 — Waiting for Him

I kept expecting Vincent to come with flowers, or fresh clothes, or a single kind word.

I told myself he was overwhelmed with work. I told myself he was looking after Lucy.

I told myself hospitals unsettled him, even though I couldn’t remember him ever saying so.

Every excuse I invented bought me one more day of hope. Instead of visiting, he sent short messages.

How much longer are they keeping you? How expensive is this going to be? Can you sign paperwork from there? He never asked if I was scared.