Jennifer Sullivan—my best friend—and I walked out of the hospital in silence. When we arrived at the intersection, she took my hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “Don’t get emotional about it. If you’re sick, just get treated. We can take things slow.”“Yeah. Everything will be okay.”After we parted ways, my mind wandered off, and I nearly got run over by a car. As I apologized repeatedly, the driver cursed me out and drove away. The moment I got home, I saw that Adrian Howard, my husband, was in the kitchen cooking. Usually, he would be playing games at this time. By the looks of it, he knew that I was feeling down. At the very least, he had good judgment. He occasionally checked on me, but he did it sneakily. He did not dare to look me in the eye. From the call at the hospital, my mood plummeted. I remembered reading once in a book that we are to never test a person’s humanity, because it would make us lose things we could never get back. I still did it by sending A
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