On Halloween, My Husband Bet I'd Never Leave Him, So I Stopped Waiting novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: The Bouquet

Gwen drove the whole way with one hand on the horn.

We reached the rehab center in twelve minutes, and I could see the lobby through the glass before I was out of the car.

Russell stood in the middle of it holding an armful of white lilies.

Diana was beside him in dark glasses, one hand pressed to her chest.

A man with a camera on his shoulder stood a step behind them, filming the front desk.

"We're only here for my wife's mother," Russell was telling the receptionist, in his warmest voice. "My wife is unwell, and we are trying to bring her home."

I pushed open the door.

"I'm not unwell, Russell."

He turned, and he let the camera find my face before he spoke.

"Sylvia." His eyes were wet, and I had seen him cry on command before. "Thank God. Sweetheart, we've been so worried."

"We," Diana said, and took off her sunglasses.

"Turn that off," Gwen said to the cameraman.

He looked at Russell, and Russell shook his head a little, so the camera stayed on.

"Everyone says things in a crisis," Russell said, to the lens. "I forgive you, and I'm ready to take you home."

A woman in a wheelchair rolled out of the corridor.

It was my mother, with a therapist walking behind her, in her cardigan with her left hand curled in her lap.

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