“How much are you missing?”
Grace told him.
Nathan immediately knew their current savings would not cover everything.
“I’ll sell one of the machines.”
“No.”
Nathan looked at her.
“You are never making a decision like this by yourself again.”
“If you sell that equipment, you’ll lose the Capitol Hill contract.”
“I’ll find another contract.”
“It took you five years to get that project.”
Nathan took her hands.
“And I would spend the rest of my life trying to forgive myself if I lost you because I chose to protect a construction contract.”
During the next several days, family members and friends learned what was happening.
Nathan never asked anyone for money.
But one of his employees found out about Grace and organized a collection.
The construction workers donated portions of their paychecks.
A former client contributed money.
Neighbors brought meals so Nathan and Grace did not need to think about cooking.
When the hospital director heard about her situation, he authorized a special payment arrangement.
The night before surgery, Nathan found Grace standing awake beside the bedroom window.
“Are you scared?” he asked.
“Very.”
“So am I.”
Grace turned toward him, surprised.
“I thought you’d tell me everything was going to be fine.”
“I can’t promise something I don’t control,” Nathan said. “But I can promise you will never be scared alone again.”
Grace rested her head on his shoulder.
“There was something handwritten on the divorce envelope.”
Nathan remembered the sentence he had written on the back before driving to Margaret’s house.
“Forgive me for not being enough.”
Grace started crying.
“You were always enough.”
Nathan opened a drawer and removed the divorce documents.
One page at a time, he tore them apart.
The following morning, Grace was taken into surgery.
The operation was expected to last five hours.
After seven hours, no one had given Nathan or Margaret any news.
Nathan walked endlessly through the waiting area.
Margaret prayed in silence.
Every time the doors opened, they both stood.
Eventually, the surgeon appeared.
His gown was stained from the procedure, and exhaustion was visible across his face.
“The surgery was more difficult than we anticipated,” he explained. “There was significant bleeding, and her heart stopped for several seconds.”
Margaret cried out.
Nathan felt the world disappear beneath his feet.
“Is she alive?”
The doctor took a deep breath.
“We were able to stabilize her. We removed the primary tumor, but the next twenty-four hours will be extremely important.”
Nathan entered the intensive care unit.
Grace lay surrounded by machines and wires.
Her face seemed impossibly pale.
He sat beside her bed and took her hand.
“I don’t know whether you can hear me,” he whispered. “But I need you to come back. Not because you owe me anything. Not because you need to be strong for me. Come back because we have too many conversations left unfinished.”
Six hours passed.
Then twelve.
At dawn, Grace’s fingers moved.
Nathan immediately called for a nurse.
Grace slowly opened her eyes.
The first person she saw was her husband.
She tried to speak.
Only a weak sound came from her throat.
Nathan leaned close.
“Did you sign them?” she whispered.
He knew she meant the divorce papers.
“Yes,” Nathan replied, struggling against his tears. “I signed something much more important.”
He removed a folded sheet of paper from his pocket.
During the night, Nathan had written a promise.
“We will never hide pain from each other and call it protection again. Neither of us will make decisions for both of us. When fear comes, we will speak before we create distance.”
