I finally slipped out to find coffee.
That was when a nurse caught my elbow in the hallway and told me something shocking.
I was memorizing him
She was young, maybe my age, with tired eyes.
She glanced toward Room 407, then back at me, and lowered her voice.
“Don’t tell him I told you this.”
“Told me what?”
“Before you leave tonight,” she whispered, “look under his mattress.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Look under his mattress.”
“He’s lying to you. He and the doctor. They have a plan.” Her hand tightened on my sleeve. “He doesn’t know I’ve seen it.”
Then she was gone, swallowed by the fluorescent hum of the corridor.
As if she had never existed at all.
I stood there with a paper cup of vending machine coffee, my new ring cold against my finger, trying to breathe.
Then I turned back toward Room 407.
“He’s lying to you.”
I forced a bride’s smile onto my face.
But I couldn’t stop wondering what on earth my childhood sweetheart had hidden beneath his hospital bed.
Ben smiled the second he saw me.
“There you are.”
“I got lost looking for coffee,” I lied.
I forced a bride’s smile onto my face.“You always get lost.”
I smiled back because I didn’t know what else to do.
Every instinct told me to lift that mattress the second I got another chance.
But every instinct also told me that if Ben noticed even the smallest change in me, I’d never learn the truth.
A few minutes later, Dr. Klein stepped into the room carrying a tablet.
I didn’t know what else to do.
“How’s our groom today?” he asked warmly.
“Married,” Ben said with a grin.
“I heard. Congratulations to both of you.”
He checked the monitor beside the bed, barely looking at it before turning back to Ben.
“Everything’s still on schedule.”
Ben gave the slightest nod.
“How’s our groom today?”
“So tomorrow should work?”
“It should,” the doctor replied.
Neither of them seemed to realize I was watching more closely than usual.
What was still on schedule?
Ben didn’t have any treatments tomorrow.
The doctor smiled politely at me before leaving.
What was still on schedule?
But all I could think of were the nurse’s words.
“He’s lying to you. He and the doctor. They have a plan.”
“You okay?” Ben asked. “You seem far away.”
“Just tired.” I forced a smile.
He squeezed my hand.
“Go home after visiting hours end. Get some sleep.”
“You seem far away.”
“I will.”
A few minutes later, he shuffled toward the bathroom with his IV pole.
The moment the door clicked shut, I approached his bed.
I was going to find out what Ben was hiding from me.
My fingers trembled as I lifted the mattress higher.
A thin manila folder sat tucked between the frame and the springs.
I lifted the mattress higher.
I pulled it out with shaking hands and pressed my back against the wall.
The bathroom door was still shut.
Water ran on the other side.
I opened the folder.
The first page was a lab report with Ben’s name at the top.
My eyes dropped straight to the conclusion.
I opened the folder.
No evidence of malignancy.
I frowned.
That couldn’t be right.
I turned the page.
Another report.
Different date, same result.
The nurse’s message was starting to make sense, but nothing explained why Ben was lying to me or what exactly he was planning.
