“By pretending to be lovers?”
“No!” she cried. “We never pretended to be lovers. We were trying to keep the medical appointments private until we could explain everything properly. But we handled it terribly.”
Michael sat beside her.
“Emily asked me not to tell you until we had spoken to Dr. Wilson and understood what the tests meant. I agreed because I was scared, too. I thought if I came home with a diagnosis before we knew anything for certain, you might shut down completely.”
The doctor nodded.
“Your husband and daughter contacted our office to arrange a consultation. However, I want to be clear about something: their concern does not replace your right to know about your own health. You should have been included in the process much earlier.”
His words settled over the room.
For months, I had imagined betrayal.
The truth was more complicated.
They had been trying to protect me, but they had made decisions about my health without giving me the chance to participate. They had allowed my fear to become an excuse for secrecy.
