The Operation
One morning, Ethan said he was heading to teach.
But at noon, I received a call from the hospital:
“Mrs. Harrison, your husband has been admitted for surgery. He said you’ll understand.”
My world went silent.
I drove to the hospital as fast as I could.
In the pre-op room, Ethan sat quietly in his hospital gown, strangely calm.
“I’m sorry, Anna. I know you’re scared, but I have to try. Not for me—for you. Because I want you to have a complete husband.”
Tears streamed down my face as I clutched his hand.
“I never needed that. I just needed you—just as you are.”
He smiled gently and brushed my hair aside.
“I want to repaint the last picture—the one with us. But this time, I’ll be the one standing.”
The doors to the operating room closed, leaving me trembling in the hallway, praying with all my heart.
The surgery lasted over seven hours.
When the doctor finally emerged, his face tired but smiling, he said:
“The surgery was successful. But he’ll need time—a long time—to recover.”
I cried tears of relief.
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