It was recognition.
He knew exactly what I was asking.
And he knew the answer.
He grabbed his keys and left the house.
I sat alone in the living room, shaking.
For the first time, I understood that my husband might not simply be afraid of medical tests.
He might be afraid of what those tests would reveal.
The next morning, I called Dr. Wilson’s office.
I told her what had happened and admitted that I was frightened to return home after another appointment.
She helped me discuss a safety plan, including keeping important documents accessible, identifying somewhere safe I could go, and arranging support from someone I trusted.
I called my sister, Rebecca.
We had not been close for several years. Michael often complained that she interfered in our marriage, and eventually I had stopped telling her what was happening.
When she answered, I almost hung up.
“Sarah?” she said. “Is everything okay?”
