Chapter 15 - Two Weeks of Silence
Rachel wanted to confront her mother. I asked her not to. "If Linda is planning something, we don't have to attend the planning meeting."
I told my medical team what I'd heard and confirmed my visitor preferences again. Mara packed a hospital bag with me while Daniel sent short, practical messages about insurance, car seats, and bills. He stopped sending paragraphs about how upset his mother felt. That mattered more than the flowers he used to buy after a fight.
At thirty-seven weeks, I met Daniel at a coffee shop. He asked whether we could begin couples counseling after the baby came. I said maybe, and that maybe meant maybe. He didn't push.
"I thought being a good son meant never upsetting her," he said.
"And I thought being a good wife meant swallowing every little insult."
We sat with those two mistakes between us. For a moment I could see the people we might have been if we'd learned sooner.
He reached across the table. "Do you still love me?"
"Some days that's the hardest part."
On the way out he said there was something he needed to tell me about the morning of the fall. His face changed, but his phone rang before he could speak. He glanced at the screen. Linda. He let it ring out.
"We'll talk tonight," he said.
I hated that sentence before I knew why.
That evening Mara and I were watching a terrible baking show when warmth spread suddenly down my legs. I stood, stared at the couch cushion, and felt another rush.
"Mara," I said, "I think my water just broke."
May you like
She picked up the hospital bag. I called labor and delivery, and they told us to come in. As Mara grabbed her keys, a message from Daniel arrived on my phone.
Please don't let Mom know you're at the hospital. I haven't told you everything.
