Skip to content 
“Two after breakfast.”
I clicked the final tablet into the organizer and reached for his hand.
He pulled away.
“We’ll get through this, my love,” I said.
“There’s no getting through it.”
“Then we’ll face it, Robert.”
“Greta… I don’t want you beside me.”
A few pills slipped from my fingers and rolled across the floor.
“I don’t want you beside me.”
“What did you say?”
“I want a divorce, Greta.”
“We found out this morning that you’re dying, and you’re asking for a divorce?”
“I’m not asking.”
“Then look at me.”
Robert kept his eyes on the refrigerator.
“I want a divorce, Greta.”
“Look at me and say it, Robert!”
His jaw tightened, but he faced me.
“I don’t want you here.”
I searched his face.
“Is this fear talking?”
“No.”
“Then why are your hands shaking?”
“Is this fear talking?”
He shoved them into his pockets.
“I want to spend the time I have left with the person I love.”
My fingers closed around the pill.