For the next several days, Adrian never left the hospital.
I wouldn't let him into my room, so he watched me through the glass. Before the nurses brought my medication, he questioned them about every dose. If pain woke me in the night, he was at my door before the nurse on duty. Once, when I leaned over to be sick, he rushed in without thinking and tried to hold me up. The second he felt me go stiff at his touch, his hands stopped in midair. In the end he only dared set a glass of water on the nightstand.
"I'm sorry. I won't touch you." He backed off to the far wall and stayed there all night.
But care that came this late didn't mean anything now.
On the third morning, my attorney brought the finalized divorce papers. The agreement we'd both signed had been approved, and the judgment d
