He Called My Brain Injury a Hunger Strike, So I Forgot Him novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: Brave Wife

I sat down at the far end of the table between the insurance salesman and the empty chair.

Imogen had already taken her place at Roland's right hand.

She wore a black dress and a string of pearls I had never seen.

Albert Blair, at the head, was sixty-two, with a silver beard and a deep, slow voice.

He had built his fortune on trucking, and he liked to say he did business with families.

Roland stood when the soup arrived and tapped his glass with a spoon.

"Before we eat," he said, "I want to thank everyone for coming. And one person in particular."

He looked down the table at me.

Every head turned.

"Six months ago my wife was shot in the head," Roland said. "Some of you know that. She survived, and every day since, she has been fragile. She forgets things. She gets confused. Sometimes she says things that aren't true."

The insurance salesman patted my arm.

"Leah is here tonight," Roland went on, "because she's stronger than she looks, and because I won't leave her side. Please, raise a glass to my brave wife."

Glasses went up all along the table.

I stayed in my chair with my hands folded.

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