Chapter 13: What She Never Said

Nathan's POV

The cafeteria on the second floor of the hospital stayed open all night for the families.

At four in the morning it held a vending machine, a man asleep over a tray, and my wife.

Hannah sat at the table farthest from the door in her grandmother's gray coat.

She had a paper cup of tea in front of her, and she hadn't touched it.

I stood in the doorway for a full minute.

Then I walked over and said, "May I?"

"It's a cafeteria," she said. "Sit where you like."

I sat across from her, and I kept my hands flat on the table where she could see them.

"My mother's still at the window," I said. "She hasn't moved. Dad's asleep, and the doctor says the night is fine."

"Good."

"Han, I'm not here to explain."

"Then why are you here?"

"To listen."

She looked at me for a long moment.

Her eyes were dry, and that frightened me more than tears would have.

"Do you know what I do when you come home late?" she said.

"No."

"I smile."

I waited.

"I smile at the door, and I ask about your day.

"I put your plate in the oven. I've done it for two years, Nathan."

"I know."

"You don't," she said. "You thought it meant I was fine."

My throat closed.

It was true.

I had stood in our kitchen a hundred times and watched her smile at me.

Each time I had thought, she's all right, she's steady, thank God one of us is.

"Every time I smiled," I said slowly, "I thought it meant I hadn't hurt you."

"That's how I wanted you to think."

"Why?"

"Because the one time I told you what I really felt, you went quiet for a week."

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