“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried,” he said. “You became upset whenever I mentioned doctors. You said you were tired and didn’t want to talk about it.”
“That doesn’t explain the lies.”
“No,” he admitted. “It doesn’t.”
For the first time since I had entered the room, he did not try to defend himself.
Emily pulled a chair closer.
“Mom, I found out how frightened you were after Grandma died. You told me once that you would never put yourself through that again. When Dad told me about your dizziness, I panicked.”
I looked at her.
“Then why did you make me think you were having an affair?”
She began to cry harder.
“We thought we could get you to see a specialist if we understood the situation first. We wanted to find out what the doctors needed to check, what the appointments would involve, and how to talk to you without frightening you.”
