That was enough.
We dealt with the cracked cast first. I called for medical advice while Conor sat beside me, and we arranged to have it checked and replaced.
Then I took my phone downstairs.
Nathan answered on the second ring.
“Cynthia?”
That was enough.
“Did you know about the cancer?”
Silence.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since after the biopsy.”
I sat down.
“Did you know about the cancer?”
“Before the ankle?”
“Yes.”
“Did you take him to an appointment?”
“Once. After they removed it. He couldn’t drive.”
This wasn’t one panicked lie anymore. Conor had built a whole system around keeping me outside it.
“Did you tell him to tell me?”
“Did you take him to an appointment?”
“More than once.”
Nathan exhaled.
“He was scared, Cynthia.”
“I know. I believe that. But I’m still his wife.”
“I know.”
I let that sit.
“Thank you for answering me.”
“But I’m still his wife.”
