“What kind of job is this?”
He threw the jacket onto the floor.
I bent to pick it up.
“I’m sorry. I’ll get another one.”
Michael looked at me with contempt.
“You really are incapable of doing anything right. You can’t manage the house. You can’t have children. What exactly do you have?”
Each word was meant to cut.
But my heart no longer bled for him.
I simply picked up the jacket.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
When he saw that I did not react, Michael smiled smugly.
“So you finally learned your place. This afternoon, I’ll go see that doctor. I’ll make him stop sending those ridiculous letters. And if I find out you’re behind this, Evelyn, you’ll pay for it.”
He slammed the door behind him.
The house fell silent.
I looked at the clock.
Ten in the morning.
Just a few hours left.
Michael would finally hear the words he should have heard eight years earlier.
At the office, Michael sent Lauren a message.
After the hospital, he would come see her and the children.
Lauren replied with a heart emoji.
Michael smiled.
In his mind, everything was still under control.
At exactly two o’clock that afternoon, Michael walked into Metropolitan Hospital.
He did not sit in the waiting area. Instead, he stood against the wall with his arms crossed, irritation written across his face.
Finally, a nurse called his name.
“Michael Reynolds?”
He pushed open the consultation room door and stepped inside.
Dr. Bennett Carter sat behind the desk.
He looked up.
“I’m very glad you finally came.”
Michael pulled out a chair and sat down. No greeting. No handshake.
“I’m a busy man,” he said. “You know that. I want to know why the hospital sent that red-stamped letter. Are you and my wife trying to get money from my insurance?”
Dr. Carter regarded him calmly.
“You’ve misunderstood the situation. Your wife has never said anything bad about you.”
Michael gave a mocking laugh.
“Impossible. She definitely hates me.”
Dr. Carter sighed, then slid a thick file across the desk.
“Michael, answer one question for me. Over the past eight years, have you truly never listened to anything Evelyn tried to tell you?”
The smile disappeared from Michael’s face.
“What does that mean?”
Dr. Carter opened the file.
“Eight years ago, you left this hospital appointment halfway through.”
An old memory returned to Michael.
A consultation room.
A doctor speaking too seriously.
An important meeting.
Lauren waiting for him.
“I remember,” Michael said. “So what?”
“That day, your screening showed an abnormal finding. We recommended additional specialized testing and genetic counseling. You never came back.”
Michael leaned back.
“That was years ago. I’ve been perfectly healthy. Doesn’t that prove there’s no problem?”
Dr. Carter shook his head.
“The issue was never your current health.”
He removed an old report from the file and placed it in front of Michael.
Across the top, in red letters, were the words:
Advanced Genetic Testing Required.
Michael frowned.
“Genetics?”
Dr. Carter nodded.
“The testing indicated that you carry a rare genetic mutation.”
Michael went still.
“Are you saying I have a disease?”
“No. The likelihood of you developing serious symptoms is very low. You may live a completely healthy life.”
Michael immediately released a breath.
“I knew it. So there’s no problem. You worried me for nothing.”
He started to stand.
Dr. Carter’s voice stopped him.
“The problem is not with you. It is with the next generation.”
Michael slowly turned back.
“What did you say?”