“Why hide it? I don’t understand.”

I wipe my face with both hands, rub vigorously. “Because he knows me. He knows I would full Amazon on his ass. Take care of him, baby him. I’d quit my job to nurse him. I’d sell my fucking soul for him, and he knows it.” I now take a shot for me. “My dad died young, you know that. When I was six. He died slow, and I…it’s why I went into nursing. To take care of people, the way I did Dad.”

“Nadia, Jesus. You were six.”

“Some things you don’t forget,” I say. “So Adrian…he thinks he’s protecting me from him, from myself.”

“It’s bullshit. You deserve to know.”

“One time, when we were first married, he lied about being sick. Toughed it out, pretended he was fine. And then his appendix burst and he almost died. I was so mad at him, Tess, you don’t even know. He wasn’t sorry at all. Not a word of apology. Told me he did it for me and he’d do it again. And he has, our whole marriage. He refuses to let me nurse him. Says I do it enough for work, so he’s going to be my husband, not my patient.”

“Wow.”

“Won’t even cop to having a damn cold.” I speak like I have a stuffed-up nose: “He’d dalk lide dis, and have the balls to be like, naw, I’m fine. Just a stuffy nose. Flu? Waits till he can’t stand up before admitting he’s sick, and then he locks himself in his office with a water bottle and an iPad and doesn’t come out till he’s on his feet again.”

“I knew he was stubborn, but damn.”

“So I guess I should expect this from him, but…” I shake my head again. “I have no proof that’s what it is. I just know he’s not okay.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I can’t make him tell me. I mean, I can put down an ultimatum or something but…I don’t want to do that.”

“So you’re just gonna wait him out?”

“He’s not lying out of malice, or…or to like, hide something he shouldn’t be doing. It’s not a white lie, because that’s bullshit anyway, but it’s…I don’t know. He has good reasons, in his mind. I don’t know, Tess. I just don’t.”

We both cry, then.

“What a pair we are today, huh?” Tess says.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “No kidding.”

“Call in tomorrow,” she suggests. “Get hammered with me.”

I shake my head. “I think I have to start saving up my liver function. Just a hunch. Plus, we’re already short-staffed tomorrow, that’s why I’m working a double—I’m covering for Rachel.”

“Fine. Lame-ass.”