I went to surprise my husband at work — but his colleague asked me with tears in his eyes, “He hasn’t told you anything, has he?”
Ben and I had been married for eleven years. I had spent every one of them sharing him with that hospital.
He was a gifted surgeon, and I was proud that my husband saved so many lives. But over the past year, I had started wrapping up his dinner before I even sat down to eat mine.
He missed Thanksgiving, our anniversary, and our daughter’s eighth birthday.
Sometimes he didn’t come home at all.
“We’re short-staffed, honey. Please don’t wait up.”
Whenever he finally crawled into bed, he looked so exhausted that I swallowed every complaint. Once, I woke to find him sitting on the edge of the mattress, his shoulders shaking.
“Ben?”
He wiped his face before turning around.
