Evan didn’t push me to talk, he only led me inside the house, took off my clothes, and put me to bed. He curled up behind me and murmured into my ear that everything was going to be okay. I pressed myself against his body, trying to feed off of my husband’s inherent strength. Eventually, he fell asleep, but even as exhausted as I was, I lay awake into the early hours of morning, staring into the dark, replaying the events of the evening inside my head. “I think it’s the flu,” I told Chandi the following morning when I called to tell her I wouldn’t be coming in to work. I’d cried so much the night before, my sinuses were plugged and my voice sounded as though I’d gargled rocks; there was no need to fake being ill. “Oh no,” Chandi said. “Poor you. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll have Paula and the other techs handle what they can of your appointments and reschedule the rest.” “I might be out a few days,” I said. My body ached, feeling as though it had been poisoned.
