“Lyla, don’t twist my words.”
“I couldn’t stand for long without pain.”
“I know.”
“I avoided vacations because walking all day hurt.”
“I know.”
“I slept with pillows under my shoulders every single night.”
“I get that.”
“I cried after work because I was exhausted from carrying my own body.”
He sighed.
“But they were part of what made you… you.”
My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
“So my pain was worth it because you liked how I looked?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He stood and began pacing.
“I just think you made a permanent decision without considering how it would affect me.”
I laughed, but there was no humor left.
“I talked about this surgery before we were even engaged.”
“I figured you’d change your mind.”
“I reminded you every year.”
“I know.”
“You came to every consultation.”
“I know.”
“You drove me to the hospital.”
“I know that too.”
“So when exactly was I supposed to realize you were secretly hoping I’d stay in pain?”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“No, Gerald. I’m finally listening.”
He stopped pacing.
“I sacrificed something too.”
“What?”
“My attraction.”
For a second, I wondered whether I had heard him correctly.
“What did you just say?”
He looked directly at me.
“I married you the way you were.”
There it was.
The truth.
This wasn’t really about money.
It wasn’t about fairness.
It wasn’t even about the hair transplant.
It was about the fact that he believed my body belonged partly to him.
I slowly rose from the chair, careful with every movement.
“My surgeon removed tissue that was causing me chronic pain.”
“I know.”
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