I didn’t know whether the growth would prove harmless or whether we would face months of difficult treatment.
But I knew one thing with absolute certainty.
Whatever waited for us beyond that appointment, I would no longer be standing outside a locked door, wondering what my husband was hiding.
And if the next chapter of our lives turned out to be the hardest one we’d ever faced, we would face it honestly.
After thirty-two years of marriage, I had finally learned that love wasn’t about protecting someone from every frightening truth.
Sometimes, love meant opening the door, letting the light in, and trusting each other enough to face what was waiting on the other side.
