I have not been told that you have cancer. I do not know what the cyst means. I have no right to pretend that I do.
But I have been acting as though I can protect you by keeping you from worrying. I know now that I have been protecting myself from a difficult conversation instead.
If I have the chance, I will tell you everything tomorrow.
If I do not, I pray that you will forgive me for being afraid.
You have spent your life standing beside me. You deserved a husband who could stand beside you when you were frightened, too.
I love you, Eleanor.
Samuel.
I lowered the letter.
For several seconds, I could not speak.
Michael had turned pale.
“He knew?” he whispered.
“He knew there was something that needed to be checked.”
“And he didn’t tell you the whole truth?”
I shook my head slowly.
