Rebecca’s smile faded.
“Recovering?”
“She was in the emergency room the night before last. Her fever went over 104.”
Martin stopped with his fork halfway to his plate.
“She’s recovering well.”
“104?”
“Yes. She’s only four months old, so our pediatrician sent us straight in.”
Rebecca looked horrified. “That must have been terrifying.”
“It was.” I frowned. “Didn’t Ethan mention it?”
Martin looked at Ethan.
Ethan’s perfect dinner had lasted less than ten minutes.
“Didn’t Ethan mention it?”
Ethan shifted in his chair.
“Were the doctors able to find out the cause of her fever?” Rebecca asked him.
“Oh, they were, but Ethan wouldn’t know since he hasn’t asked how she’s doing.”
The table went quiet.
Rebecca frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Were the doctors able to find out the cause of her fever?”
I let the silence sit for half a second.
“Ethan left the emergency room before she was seen.”
Ethan’s face tightened.
“What?” Martin asked. “You left?”
Before Ethan could answer, Sylvia jumped in.
“Ethan left the emergency room before she was seen.”
“He had to be well-rested for the presentation in the morning,” she said with a smile, like that explained everything.
Rebecca stared at Sylvia. “So he went home?”
“To my house,” Sylvia said. “I picked him up so he could get some sleep.”
Martin looked from Sylvia to Ethan.
I folded my hands in my lap.
For once, I was happy to let Sylvia keep talking.
“So he went home?”
Rebecca looked at Ethan.
“None of this matters,” Ethan said. “Nora is fine.”
“How would you know?” Martin asked quietly.
Ethan turned red.
Martin set his napkin beside his plate.
“I think we should go.”
“How would you know?”
Ethan stood immediately.
“Martin, wait. This sounds worse than it was.”
Martin looked at him for a long moment.
“Your four-month-old daughter was in the emergency room, Ethan.”
He didn’t need to say anything else.
“Martin, wait. This sounds worse than it was.”
Rebecca came around the table and touched my arm.
“I’m glad she’s doing better.”
“Thank you.”
The dinner Ethan had begged me to save was over.
The minute the door shut behind them, Ethan turned on me.
“Do you have any idea what you just did to me?”
“I think we should go.”
There it was again.
His presentation.
His boss.
His dinner. His reputation. His stress.
I picked up my purse.
Ethan stared at me. “That’s it? You humiliated me in front of my boss, and now you’re just going to leave?”
There it was again.
“Not exactly. I’ll be in touch once I’ve filed for divorce.”
Sylvia stepped forward.
“You’re insane! I was only trying to help my son.”
And that was the problem.
She had spent his entire life rescuing him from discomfort, and Ethan had spent his entire life learning that someone else would carry whatever he put down.
“I’ll be in touch once I’ve filed for divorce.”
I drove back to Daniel’s house.
The lights were low when I walked in.
My sister-in-law was asleep on the couch.
Nora was in the bassinet beside her, breathing softly, one fist tucked near her cheek.
I stood over her for a long time.
Then I touched two fingers to her tiny hand.
I drove back to Daniel’s house.
She closed her tiny fingers around mine without waking.
For two days, Ethan had worried about his presentation, his house, his dinner, his boss, and what I had done to him.
He never once asked what the fever had done to his daughter.
The night at the hospital could have been one terrible choice made by an exhausted man.
He never once asked what the fever had done to his daughter.
Everything he did afterward told me it wasn’t.
So when Ethan chose himself again and again, I finally chose Nora and me.
