I wasn’t checking his phone or searching drawers.
After dinner, I was going to ask my husband one question.
What are you hiding from me?
But I never got the chance.
The crash came from upstairs.
What are you hiding from me?
Then I found him beside the tub.
And saw the scar.
Conor covered his leg with the towel.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing doesn’t leave a scar like that.”
“It’s handled.”
Then I found him beside the tub.
“What’s handled?”
He looked toward the door.
“Conor.”
“I had something removed.”
My stomach tightened.
“What? What did you have removed?”
“I had something removed.”
“A spot.”
“What kind of spot, Conor?”
He didn’t answer.
I lowered myself beside him. “Conor, look at me.”
He did.
“Tell me the truth.”
His shoulders dropped.
“Conor, look at me.”
“Skin cancer.”
For a moment, I heard nothing except the bathroom fan.
