The more time I spent in the hospital, the more I learned about my wife. I think I've learned more about her in just a few weeks than I had in the five years we've been married. It's crazy how I could barely recall her name before, and now I know the book she's reading, her little quirks, and the things she does when she's bored.
When she's feeling bored, she starts playing with anything she can get her hands on. A plastic straw? She folds it into tiny flowers. Unused napkins? They become snowflake cutouts. Or she'll just clean the room, fold the dirty clothes, peel fruits, or stare out the window. Why doesn't she just play with her phone? Does she even have one?
"Mr. Blythe… are you listening, Mr. Blythe?" Will's voice echoed in my head. I turned to him as he sighed.
"You've been spacing out lately… are you okay?" I nodded at Will's question, but he didn't look convinced by my answer.
"I'm glad you heard what I said from before. The media is starting to shift their attention elsewhere, and the rumors are quieting down… I hope you can maintain this low profile until you've fully recovered."
Like I can do anything other than sleep, eat, and watch TV. What else is there to do? I just rolled my eyes. Will took no offense at my reaction. He turned toward my wife, who had just poured him a cup of coffee.
"Thank you, Mrs. Blythe… If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have been able to identify all the women Mr. Blythe has been with. It's much easier to give them hush money now," Will said with a laugh. He looked more relaxed than ever, chatting away with my wife about my affairs. Why do I keep getting reminded that my wife is basically friends with all my side pieces?
They kept talking happily, completely ignoring me. I'd never seen my wife chat with anyone like this before. Was she always this… lively? My sanity was probably disturbed from being stuck in this room for so long because, for a second, I could've sworn my wife was practically glowing.
"It's already near 8 PM… Visiting hours should be ending soon," I said, cutting off their cheerful conversation. Will glanced at the clock and stood up from his seat.
"It is late… I should let you rest. Mr. Blythe, I'll see you when there's new information to discuss. Mrs. Blythe… we'll talk again another time."
Will smiled at my wife, and for some reason, I felt a surge of anger toward him that I'd never felt before. My wife simply smiled back.
"See you later, Mr. Darson. Please send my thanks to your wife for the soup recipe."
They're exchanging recipes now? She even knows Will's wife?
"I should also return home…" my wife said softly.
I don't know what came over me, but I grabbed her hand suddenly. It happened so fast that there was a solid 30 seconds of silence as we stared at each other.
"Why do you need to leave? There's a bed for family members," I said, my voice firm.
I'd never even considered why she never slept in the other bed in the room. It had always been there—a cozy bed for family members looking after sick patients. Yet, she always left when visiting hours ended and returned when the clock struck 12 PM.
"Well…" She was at a loss for words, looking around frantically and trying to tug her hand free from mine.
"Mr. Blythe… the bed is for family members," Will said sternly, as if I'd just suggested the most ridiculous thing.
"And? She's my wife," I replied, keeping my grip on her hand. I didn't know why, but I didn't want her to leave yet.
"Well, yes… but the public doesn't know that. If they find out who she really is, the rumors about you cheating while being married will be proven true."
I gritted my teeth before letting go of her hand. It was true—I'd never made any official announcement about us being married. Our wedding had been a small ceremony, held on her parents' farm with only my parents and hers in attendance.
My eyes lingered on my now-empty hand before shifting to hers.
I didn't even give her a ring…