Chapter 2

2: 2

The next day I went back to the marital home to get the things my mother needed for her surgery.

The guest room door stood open.

Annette Henson was propped against the adjustable back cushion I'd bought, watching TV, the non-slip slippers I'd set out for my mother on her feet.

The bed rail, the blackout curtain, the sorted pill organizer — every last thing, all of it what I'd arranged ahead of time for my mother's cataract surgery.

A month ago Damian had stood in the doorway with a frown and said he couldn't stand the smell of the medicated oils old people always used, that I should hold off on bringing her over.

I thought he only needed time to adjust.

Now I understood. It was never old people he couldn't stand.

Winona came out of the bathroom holding the pill box labeled "Mom — morning meds."

"Millicent, let my mom borrow these for a few days. Damian said your mother's surgery can be pushed back. Cataracts aren't exactly an emergency."

I took the pill box back out of her hand.

"Who pushed it back for her?"

Damian came in carrying warm water, settled Annette upright first, then turned to look at me.

"I called the hospital. Two weeks won't hurt your mom. Aunt Annette's been dizzy lately, she can't be left alone at night, so the guest room's hers for now."

"What gives you the right to decide for my mother?"

"You were in a meeting. I couldn't get through."

He lifted a hand and touched my eyelid, his voice going soft.

"Your eyes are so red. Didn't sleep well last night? The eye drops are in your bag. You can't even look after yourself. How are you going to look after a patient at the same time?"

I moved away from his hand.

"She has a daughter."

"Winona doesn't know the first thing about any of it. If something really happens to her mom, it'll come back to me in the end anyway."

Winona bowed her head, tears clinging to her lashes.

"It's my fault, I'm useless. Millicent, don't blame Damian, I'll take my mom and go."

"Where would you even take her?"

Damian's tone turned hard all at once, then he swung back around to coax me.

"Don't you start too. You talk tough, but you're not that heartless. Once Aunt Annette's a little better, I'll go get your mom myself. That works, doesn't it?"

I opened the closet and packed my mother's nightclothes, towels, and pill box into a case. Annette leaned against the headboard and said a stiff little sorry.

Damian frowned at once.

"Aunt Annette, you don't need to apologize. This is my home. If I say you can stay, no one gets to send you off."

My hands stopped for a second on the case lid.

So he knew exactly how to make an old woman feel she had a right to be there.

He'd just never once given that to my mother.

My phone buzzed twice in my pocket.

A message from my mother.

【Millicent, I'm going to hold off on the surgery. The doctor said a little later is fine, don't fight with Damian over me. I can still see for now, it doesn't get in the way of cooking.】

Half a minute later she added another line.

【I've already smoothed it over with the hospital. Focus on work, there's no need to come back.】

I stared at those last few words, and my fingers slowly went cold.

The doctor had clearly warned her that if she kept putting it off, her vision would only keep getting worse.

And still she said there was no rush.

No rush to use the bathroom, no rush about her aching leg, no rush that she could barely see.

Because she knew I had no standing in this house to say no on her behalf.

"Leave it."

Damian pressed a hand down on the case lid.

"When a married couple's living their life, whatever needs saying gets said behind closed doors. Lately every little disagreement and you're packing your things. Who's that for?"

I looked up at him.

"My mother canceled the surgery."

His hand went still.

"Canceled means it can be rebooked. Don't look at me like that, like I'm the one who forced her not to do it."

"You didn't force her. I did — I was always the one making her step aside for my marriage."

"Good, as long as you understand. Once you're married, you can't put your own family first in everything."

I opened the hospital's booking page.

"So there won't be any more stepping aside."

Right there in front of him, I rebooked the surgery, then reserved a care apartment near the hospital for two weeks.

When the payment alert sounded and he saw the amount, his face darkened.

"We have a home. What are you throwing that money away for?"

"There's no room here that's hers."

"Aunt Annette's only staying a few days."

"My mother's things have been sitting here a month. She hasn't spent a single day in it."

I dragged the case toward the door, and behind me he called out:

"Millicent Swanson, don't turn one thing said in anger into something real. Come home tonight and I'll switch the guest room back."

Before the elevator doors closed, I revoked his access to the shared family medical account and deleted him as my emergency contact.

The screen popped up: "Action successful."

When we married, he'd held my hand and said that from then on, my business was his business.

Now I'd taken the deciding back.