“Don’t make it sound weird. It wasn’t like that.”
“That doesn’t answer the question,” Mom said.
“I’m asking why you married her.”
I stared at my plate.
“Because there wasn’t anything else I could do for her.”
“Oh, Lucas.” Mom’s voice softened. “That doesn’t mean marrying her was the solution.”
I hoped Dad would disagree, but he reached for his water.
Neither parent believed I’d pursued Alicia’s money. Neither believed the marriage was right.
Dad eventually asked, “Do you need money while this plays out?”
“No.”
“Lucas.”
“Maybe. I’ll tell you.”
They embraced me at the door. Their love hadn’t changed, and I held on gratefully.
***
Back home, I began the account requested by the hospital.
I initially wrote that Alicia had insisted. Then I stopped. She’d asked; I’d agreed.
The distinction was uncomfortable but necessary. Calling her request an insistence made my agreement sound unavoidable. It was not. I had been the professional in the room, and my responsibility had not disappeared simply because Alicia was running out of time.
