My Husband 391
REPORTERS
288 Vouchers REPORTERS LAURA
The nurse helped guide me into my seat, her hands gentle but firm as she made sure I was secure. I bit my lip, trying to ignore the deep frustration bubbling beneath the surface. I hated this. Hated needing help for everything. The airport had already drained me more than I cared to admit.
Reporters had been everywhere. Cameras flashing in my face, microphones shoved too close, voices overlapping in an unrelenting storm of invasive questions.
"Laura, how does it feel knowing your husband moved on with your daughter's teacher?"
"Are you mentally fit to return home?"
"Can you walk? Are you able to take care of your child?"
Like I was some sort of spectacle. A tragic story to be dissected, to be whispered about in headlines and morning shows.
The worst part?
I had nothing to say.
Because what could I say? That I didn't blame Josh? That I wasn't mad? That I understood?
11:13
REPORTERS
288 Vouchers
Even if all of that was true, it didn't mean it didn't hurt.
I had forgiven him. I knew I had. But that didn't erase the ache that settled deep in my bones when I let my mind wander too long.
It was easier during the day, when Asha was around, her bright blue eyes-Josh's eyes-watching me with careful curiosity, her soft blonde curls falling over her face as she played. She was still shy, still unsure about me.
blame her
a
mother, but not
I would have
flight was long-too long. Ten hours of being
of the engines became white noise as exhaustion pulled at me, but every time I closed my eyes, flashes of the
The sharp impact.
weightlessness before my body hit
Then... nothing.
Just darkness.
11:137
REPORTERS
remembered waking up. I remembered pain. But I didn't remember a single second of the years in
I had gone to sleep one night and woken up the next day. Except, in reality, three
had grown. Josh had grieved,
I had missed all
against the armrest, and
head toward the window, watching the clouds stretch
back home, I would have
my strength. I needed
to be
breath, my body tense from being in the same position for so long. I hated flying before the accident-being
seatbelt and gently placed a hand on my
but I was barely paying attention. My mind was still caught on the reality I
11:137
REPORTERS
288 (Vouchers
processed a few
I wasn't going home.
not to the
was going
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