The Day I Stopped Waiting
"Mrs. Whitman, I just need—"
"No." Her voice was calm, which somehow made it colder. "You don't need anything from her."
He looked past her at me, desperate now.
"Nora, please."
My mother set the tea down and came to the bed. She did not touch him. She didn't have to. The anger in her face was enough to push him back a step.
"She lost her wedding yesterday," she said. "She lost her baby this morning. She does not owe you comfort, conversation, forgiveness, or one more minute of her strength."