During what I thought was a normal hospital visit, my husband’s nurse pulled me aside and whispered: “Listen, I don’t want to alarm you, but… LOOK UNDER YOUR HUSBAND’S BED when you go back to the room.” I wasn’t prepared for what I found and it had me reaching for my phone to dial 911.
I’m still reeling as I write this.
Part of me wants to laugh at how ridiculous it all turned out, but the other part?
The other part can’t stop replaying every stressful second of last Friday night.
Ethan, my husband, has been in the hospital for over a week now.
He had surgery to fix an old injury that had been bothering him for years — a complication with his hip that finally caught up with him.
He’s doing better now, recovering, but it hasn’t been easy. Between working, taking care of the kids, and making sure he’s comfortable, my days have been… hectic, to say the least.
“Mom, when’s Dad coming home?” Tommy had asked that morning, pushing his cereal around his bowl.
“Soon, sweetie,” I’d replied, trying to hide the exhaustion in my voice. “He needs to get stronger first.”
“But I miss him,” Sarah had chimed in, her bottom lip trembling.
“It’s not the same without him here.”
“I know, baby. I miss him too. More than you know.” I’d pulled them both into a tight hug, breathing in their familiar scents and drawing strength from their warmth.
Normally, I visit Ethan in the mornings or afternoons while the kids are at school.
But last Friday, my dad offered to take the kids for the night.
“You look like you could use a break,” he’d said, his eyes full of concern. “When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”
I couldn’t remember, honestly. But his offer felt like a lifeline.
I thought it was a wonderful idea to surprise Ethan with an evening visit. And maybe brighten his day a little.
When I walked into his hospital room, he looked up from his phone and immediately froze.
“Hey,” I said, smiling as I set my bag down on the chair. “You weren’t expecting me, huh?”
He blinked a couple of times and gave me a nervous laugh.
“No. I mean, uh, didn’t you come earlier today?”
“I did. But I had some extra time, so here I am.” I shrugged, sitting down next to him.
“I miss you, you know.”
“Sam…” he whispered, reaching for my hand but stopping halfway. “You shouldn’t… I mean, you must be exhausted. The kids —”
“The kids are with Dad,” I interrupted, studying his face.
Something in his expression made my stomach twist. “They miss you so much, Ethan. Sarah cried again this morning.”
His face crumpled for a moment.
“God, I hate this. Being stuck here, leaving you to handle everything…”
“Hey, that’s what marriage is about, right? In sickness and in health?” I tried to joke, but my voice caught slightly.
Ethan smiled, but there was this… I don’t know, distracted look in his eyes.
Like his brain was working overtime on something else.
“You okay?” I asked, watching him closely. “You seem… different tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He picked at the corner of his blanket. “How are the kids?”
We made small talk for a bit, and I peeled an apple for him — his favorite snack.
But the whole time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Ethan’s answers were shorter than usual. And he kept glancing at the door.
“Remember when we first started dating?” I said, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“You used to bring me apples every day because you heard somewhere that ‘an apple a day keeps the doctor away.’”
He laughed, but it sounded strained.
“Ethan,” I reached for his hand again, and this time he let me take it. “Talk to me. What’s going on?
Are you in pain? Should I call the nurse?”
“No!” he said too quickly, then softened his tone. “No, I’m fine.
Really. Just… tired.”
I tried not to overthink it. I figured maybe he was just tired.
Surgery takes a toll, right?
But then, on my way to toss the apple peelings in the trashcan outside the ward, I ran into Carla.
Carla is one of Ethan’s nurses. She’s warm, chatty, and the kind of person who instantly puts you at ease. We’d spoken a few times before, but this time, she seemed anxious.
She stepped into my path, glancing nervously down the hall before lowering her voice.
“Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Of course. What’s up?”
Her hands were trembling slightly as she fidgeted with her ID badge. “I shouldn’t be doing this.
We’re not supposed to get involved in patients’ personal lives, but…”
“Carla,” I grabbed her arm gently, my heart starting to race. “You’re scaring me. Is something wrong with Ethan?
Did the tests show something?”
She shook her head quickly. “No, no, it’s not medical. It’s…” She bit her lip.
Her eyes darted toward Ethan’s room, and her voice dropped even lower. “Listen, I don’t want to alarm you, but… look under your husband’s bed when you go back to the room.”
I frowned, confused. “Under his bed?
Why?”
“Just trust me,” she said quickly, her expression almost pleading. “You’ll understand when you see it.”
“Carla, please,” my voice cracked slightly. “If something’s wrong, just tell me.
I can handle it.”
“I can’t,” she whispered, looking over her shoulder. “But you need to know. Just… look.”
She turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, a pit of dread growing in my stomach.
What was she talking about?
Was something wrong with Ethan? Was there some kind of secret I should’ve noticed?
“Wait!” I called after her, but she already left, her shoes squeaking against the linoleum floor.
I took a deep breath and headed back to the room, trying to act normal. My hands were shaking so badly that I had to shove them into my pockets.
Ethan was l
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