I thought my husband’s long hours were the price of loving a man devoted to his work. Then one unexpected visit forced me to see how much had been decided without me, and I had to choose whether saving our marriage meant following his plan or finally making one of my own.
By the time Arnold’s eyes filled with tears, I was still holding the lunch I’d packed for my husband: Ben’s favorite sandwich, a slice of apple pie, and a note tucked beneath the fork.
“You don’t have to take care of everyone. Let me have a turn.”
I’d written it that morning.
Now I stood in the hospital corridor watching Arnold, my husband’s colleague, struggle to meet my eyes.
“I’m so glad I found you,” I said. “Can you tell me where Ben is?”
“You don’t have to take care of everyone.”
Arnold searched my face.
Then, without
