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.

I didn't blame her for

was a stranger

but not

I would have to

silent reassurance. The flight was long-too long. Ten hours of being stuck in this seat, stuck in

became white noise as exhaustion pulled at me, but every time I closed my eyes,

The sharp impact.

feeling of weightlessness before my body hit something

Then... nothing.

Just darkness.

11:137

REPORTERS

pain. But I didn't remember

me, it felt like I had gone to sleep one night and woken up the next day. Except,

had grieved, moved on,

had

slightly against the armrest, and I forced

my head toward the window,

I got back home, I would have work

needed to walk again. I needed to regain my strength. I needed

to be

long. I hated

unbuckle my seatbelt and gently placed a hand on my arm.

paying attention. My mind was still caught on the reality

11:137

REPORTERS

288 (Vouchers

fully processed a few

I wasn't going home.

not to the

was going to

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