I stopped.
When the call ended, I stood in the doorway.
— What schedule did you agree to?
He rubbed his forehead.
— Fewer night shifts. Two later shifts.
— And you arranged all of that before telling me?
— I was trying to build something better.
— For whom?
— For us.
I shook my head.
— All day long, you make difficult decisions because people need you to. But our marriage isn’t another patient you have to manage, Ben!
His face tightened.
— I didn’t think you’d agree.
— Then you should have let me disagree.
— What else?
— I turned down another offer. They paid more, but the schedule was worse.
That made me stop.
— So it really was about you being home more.
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— Yes.
— Then why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me?
— I thought if I brought you a finished plan, you’d see that I really cared.
