“The wife had been warning people.”
Another:
“The husband caused everything.”
Honestly?
Everybody suddenly became judges.
Meanwhile I was still in pain.
Still changing bandages.
Still struggling to sleep.
Then one afternoon Daniel finally came.
He stood quietly near the hospital door.
Looking thinner.
Looking tired.
For almost thirty seconds neither of us spoke.
Then finally:
“How are you?”
I laughed.
Actually laughed.
Because what kind of question was that?
How was I?
I looked at my bandaged arm.
Then looked back at him.
“How do I look?”
He lowered his head immediately.
Silence.
Heavy silence.
Then he whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
I looked away.
Because hearing that somehow made me even angrier.
Sorry?
