I looked at him at the same time.
What was the urgency, Charles? »
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that it’s my fault he’s not here anymore. »
His answer seemed watered down, as if he had mitigated the hardest aspects of the truth. But I could see that he was suffering too much for me to insist.
His response seemed watered down.
“Charles, it wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. A terrible, horrible accident. »
“But if I hadn’t called him… »
“You should have handled alone what was wrong. But you needed your best friend. And he came. Because that’s what friends do. »
He hugged me. But I couldn’t help thinking he was hiding anything from me.
***
The next few days were strange. Charles seemed lighter. As if his confession had taken a weight out of his shoulders.
But I noticed other things.
The next few days were strange.
He disappeared for hours to “walk.” He was coming home exhausted. Sometimes pale.
When I asked him if he was okay, he smiled and replied, “I’m getting older, that’s all, I suppose. »
But I didn’t believe it.
One night, he came home and I hugged him. That’s when I smelled antiseptic.
“Were you in the hospital? “I asked him.
He quickly moved away. “No. Why do you think that? »
You feel like you went to the hospital. »
“Oh, that… yeah. I came to drop off papers,” he replied quickly. “It was nothing, Ellie. »
He disappeared for hours to “walk.”
He kissed me on the forehead and went for a shower.
I stood there, mind boiling. He was lying. I knew that. But why? What was Charles hiding from me?
I decided at that moment that I was going to find out.
***
The following afternoon, Charles announced that he was going to walk.
“I’ll be back in an hour. »
I waited five minutes. Then I took my coat and followed it.
He was lying.
I’m old, but I can still move around quietly when I have to. I stayed behind enough that he wouldn’t notice me.
He left the main road and slowed down. Moments later, he walked through the sliding doors of a hospital.
My heart was beating to break everything. What is he doing here?
I waited a few minutes, and then I followed him inside. The receptionist was distracted, and I kept my head down, moving like I was in my place.
I heard Charles’ voice coming from the bottom of the hall. I followed the sound of his voice to one of the consultation rooms.
The door was slightly open. I stood outside and listened.
He walked through the sliding doors of a hospital.
“I don’t want to die,” Charles said. “Not now. Not now that I finally have a reason to live. »
The voice of a doctor replied: “Surgery is your best option, Charles. But we have to plan it quickly. Your heart will not last much longer. »
I brought my hand to my mouth. His heart?
“How long do I have left? “Asked Charles.
“A few months. Maybe a year. But with surgery, you could be several years old. »
“Your heart will not last much longer. »
I pushed the door. Charles looked up, his face pale.
“Eleanor? »
I walked into the room. “What is going on? »
The doctor looked at us in turn. “Are you family? »
“I am his wife. »
Charles got up. “Ellie, I can explain. »
“Then explain. »
He looked at the doctor. “Can you leave us a moment? »
The doctor nodded and left the room. Charles has staled, his shoulders sagging.
Charles looked up, his face pale.
Charles looked up, his face pale.
I pulled a chair and sat in front of him. “Your heart is failing. »
“Yes. »
“How long have you known? »
Charles looked down to his hands.
“Two years. »
I’ve widened my eyes. “Two years? Since… »
“From the night Conan died. The damage started that night. I was diagnosed after. I handle the situation… and I hide how much it gets worse. »
