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 warning, his eyes filled.
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