Chapter Twenty-Five
Three years since the operation, Adalia still got chills thinking about that day. The fear which’d governed her thoughts and movements, the pure anger she’d directed at her husband. How had it come to that?
Adalia dipped her hands into the dishwater, smiling at the popping bubbles surrounding her wrists. She grasped a dish and ran the wash cloth over it, staring out of their back window into the broad garden.
Isaac sat under the tree, playing with his cars and laughing hysterically when their puppy, Duckie, ran over and interfered.
Isaac was healthy. The cancer was gone without a trace, but each time they went for a check-up with Matheson and Charles, her heart wanted to jump clean out of her damn chest. The thought of a relapse terrified her.
But there hadn’t been
