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

was something I would

took off, her presence a silent reassurance. The flight was

exhaustion pulled at me, but every time I closed my eyes, flashes of the

The sharp impact.

of weightlessness before my body

Then... nothing.

Just darkness.

11:137

REPORTERS

pain. But I didn't remember a single second of the years in between.

felt like I had gone to sleep one night and woken up the

had grieved, moved on, found

had missed

slightly against the armrest, and I forced myself to focus on something

toward the window, watching the clouds

back home, I would have work

my strength.

needed to be me

same position for so long. I hated flying before the accident-being stuck in a metal tube, thousands of feet in the air, with no control over anything-but

unbuckle my seatbelt and gently placed a hand on my arm. "We'll wait

her thoughtfulness, but I was barely paying attention.

11:137

REPORTERS

288 (Vouchers

processed a

I wasn't going home.

not to the

I was going to

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