Brian stops at a Walmart.

He parks the car. “I’d tell you to come in with me, but I think the backless hospital gown is going to get some odd looks.” He grins. “Maybe even get you arrested. Indecent exposure and all that.”

I laugh. “I wasn’t thinking about clothes when you wheeled me out of the ward. But, yes. I need some. I can pay you back.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t mention it.”

His

gaze

rakes me from head to toe, like he’s seeing beneath this thin cotton gown. I hold my breath.

“Keep the truck running,” he says. “And the doors locked. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

of the country,

says 9:43 which gives at least two hours until my father’s funeral

close, but I don’t see any reason why we wouldn’t make it.

get more comfortable, and I feel something heavy beside me. It’s my phone, in the pocket of this hideous hospital gown. I take it

are from Adam. But some are

me with so

so much hurt.

couldn’t be

for the lies and what he did to my father-and all for what? Because I threatened to divorce him? It seems so petty

holding the phone and it

blink silently. I don’t force him into voicemail or anything like that. But I have no intention of answering. No matter how many times he

that he’s

Why?

he possibly

driver’s side

phone in my pocket.

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