Closed doors.
Cancelled plans.
Cold dinners.
Silences that settled over our house until neither of us knew how to break them.
I found her in the cardiac unit.
She sat near the window wearing a hospital gown that seemed too large for her.
Her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders.
She looked smaller than I remembered.
Not physically only.
Something about her seemed stripped down.
Tired.
Uncertain.
Fragile.
When she saw me standing in the doorway, her eyes widened.
“You came.”
There was relief in her voice.
And surprise.
“The hospital contacted me.”
I remained near the door.
“They said you asked for me.”
Lila nodded.
Her fingers worried the edge of the blanket.
“I didn’t know who else to put down.”
I said nothing.
“My parents are gone.”
She looked toward the window.
“My sister lives across the country.”
Then she gave a faint, embarrassed smile.
“I guess some habits survive a divorce.”
The silence between us felt almost physical.
Once, we had known everything about each other.
Now I wasn’t even sure whether I was allowed to sit beside her.
Finally, I stepped closer.
“What happened?”
Lila did not answer immediately.
When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible.
“My heart stopped, Ethan.”
I stared at her.
“There was a medical emergency at work.”
She swallowed.
“The doctors think it was connected to the way I’d been using my prescriptions.”
I felt something inside me tighten.
“What prescriptions?”
Lila turned her face away.
“Different medications.”
