Chapter 13 - The Promise She Made Rachel Keep
I found Sophie at Rachel’s house.
She was sitting on the couch drinking orange juice.
“I’m fine.”
“You fainted.”
“My blood pressure dropped.”
“You were alone.”
“There were thirty people in the grocery store.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
She sighed.
“Rachel called you.”
“She did.”
Rachel wisely disappeared into the kitchen.
I sat opposite Sophie.
“She told me about Washington.”
Sophie closed her eyes.
“Of course she did.”
“Why are you making plans for my life without me?”
Her eyes opened.
The irony struck both of us.
For a second, neither spoke.
Then Sophie actually laughed.
“That sounded familiar.”
“Painfully.”
Her smile disappeared.
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“I used that sentence too.”
“I know.”
“And it was wrong when I said it.”
She looked away.
“I don’t want you to look at me five years from now and realize you gave up everything because I got sick.”
“I don’t want to look back five years from now and realize I chose another assignment because staying scared me.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“But I’m allowed to decide which regret I can live with.”
She stared at me.
I continued.
“I’m going to the board.”
Her eyes widened.
“But I’m requesting delayed reporting until your primary treatment is complete.”
“Can you do that?”
“I can ask.”
“And if they say no?”
“Then we decide together.”
Sophie’s eyes filled.
“You keep saying that.”
“I’m practicing.”
She laughed through tears.
That evening, we ate with Rachel.
For the first time since the divorce, I heard Sophie laugh without forcing it.
I had forgotten how much I loved that sound.
On the drive home, she fell asleep against the passenger window.
At a red light, I looked at her and felt the truth with painful clarity.
I wanted my wife back.
Not because she was sick.
Not because I was guilty.
Because she was Sophie.
But wanting something didn’t mean I had earned it.
When we reached her apartment, she woke.
“You’re staring.”
“Sorry.”
“What?”
I almost lied.
Instead, I remembered her demand for truth.
“I want to kiss you.”
Her breathing changed.
I stayed where I was.
“Then why aren’t you?”
“Because wanting something doesn’t mean I’m entitled to it.”
She stared at me for a long time.
Then she leaned across the console.
Her lips touched mine.
Soft.
Brief.
Terrifying.
When she pulled back, both of us were breathing too hard.
“That doesn’t mean we’re remarried.”
“I assumed paperwork would be involved.”
She laughed.
Then her expression changed.
Her hand went to her chest.
“Sophie?”
May you like
“I can’t breathe.”
The next second, her face twisted with pain.
