The Wife He Buried Alive novel · Chapter 6 of 32

Chapter 6: The Family Room

Milo's nose started bleeding at one in the morning.

I was asleep in the chair next to his bed, and I woke up to Bev's hand on my shoulder.

"Don't panic," Bev said. "Get the nurse."

The blood was bright on the pillow and on the gray elephant's ear. Milo was crying in the small, frightened way he had when he was too tired to be loud.

The nurse came in running. She pinched the bridge of his nose and talked to him in a low voice until it slowed.

It took twenty minutes to stop.

Winston had been sleeping down the hall in the family room. He stood in the doorway in a wrinkled shirt with his hair standing up.

"What happened?"

"Low platelets," the nurse said. "It's common. He's all right."

I carried the bloody pillowcase out to the hall because I did not want Milo to see it.

My hands would not stop shaking.

I had held myself together at the funeral and in the boardroom and on the steps. Now I could not fold one piece of cotton in half.

Winston took the pillowcase out of my hands and set it on a cart.

Then he took hold of my wrist.

His hand closed around it, warm and dry. His thumb settled on the inside of my wrist, right over the pulse.

"Breathe," he said. "Slow."

I breathed.

"You're all right."

"I'm not the one who's sick."

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