Page 4 of Wall

I don’t recognize him. His face is shuttered, his red eyes are blank. I don’t recognize this man at all.

I married John Wall. The best man I ever met. Tough. Kind. No bullcrap. He opens every door for me. Car doors. Restaurant doors. Our own front door. He saves lives. He mows my parents’ lawn even though they’ve never tried to get to know him.

John Wall wouldnevercheat on me.

“Why did you—?” My voice breaks halfway through.

I wait, and John stares over my shoulder, into the kitchen, that strange expression on his face, and the clock ticks and the fridge hums, until I can’t take it anymore.

He doesn’t have an answer. Or he doesn’t know. Or he doesn’t want to tell me it’s because I’m disgusting. I’ve let myself go. I’ve fallen down, and I can’t pull myself up by my bootstraps and make dinner for once or at least do something with my hair.

It’s too much, and he’s just sitting there. Like he’s waiting to be dismissed. I run my tongue over my teeth. They’re fuzzy. I have to go to work in two hours. And crap—my scrubs are still in the washing machine.

I can’t do this.

“Get out.”

It’s a whisper at first. He flinches, and then he tentatively reaches out his hand in some reluctant, half-assed attempt to calm me down.

“Get out!”

My fists ball. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” I can’t breathe; it sounds like I’m gasping for life.

“Mona.” John rises to his full height, and he steps forward, as if he can help, as if he’s going to take care of me. This.

“Get out.” I point, my arm shaking, all of me shaking.

He stands there for a long minute, that horrible empty look on his face, and then he walks out the door, shutting it softly behind himself.

CHAPTER 1

MONA

4 YEARS LATER

“Woo hoo!” Miss Janice’s voice rings out as I pass her room. “Shift over?”

It is, almost. But I’ve always got a few minutes for my girl. I make sure Lorraine at the nurse’s station doesn’t seem to need anything, and I duck into Miss Janice’s room. She’s in her Geri chair. Must have been a good day.

“What are you up to, lady?” I drag the visitor’s chair to a spot where it’s not visible from the open door, and I plop down.

“Well, I had a bit of excitement today. Tommy visited!”

I heard about that. The cafeteria ladies were joking about how they’d better count the silverware.

“He bring your ring?”

Miss Janice’s smile slips. “He forgot it again.”

Bullcrap. That little punk only visits his grandmother when he’s got a paper he needs her to sign. He’s sold off her car, her deceased husband’s truck, and boat. As far as I’m concerned, the sooner he bleeds her dry, and we’re rid of him, the better. Her blood pressure’s always sky high after he visits.

“I’m sure he’ll remember next time.” She’s been asking him to bring her engagement ring from her house—that he now lives in—since she’s been here. He’s always got an excuse.

Miss Janice’s frown melts away—she can’t keep one long—and her cloudy blue eyes start twinkling. “Dr. Oldham came by while we were visiting.”

“Did he?”

“He was looking poorly fed. He needs a good woman.”

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