you still think I’m beautiful?”
“You know I do.”
“Say it like you mean it.”
There was a small pause.
Then Jeffrey turned toward me.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. That never changed.”
I desperately wanted to believe him.
Throughout every treatment, he had held my hand, driven me to appointments, learned my medication schedule, and stayed beside me through the worst days. Yet a cruel voice inside me kept whispering that maybe he had only stayed because decent husbands didn’t abandon sick wives.
“Jeffrey?”
“Hmm?”
“Are
