I won't wait for you anymore

"Uncle Anson, drive us home?" Richard whined, tugging on my husband's tailored sleeve.

Anson laughed, a warm sound I rarely heard directed at our own child lately. "Alright, buddy. Let me grab my keys."

"You're leaving?" I stepped into the foyer, blocking his path to the front door.

Dora materialized right behind him. She smelled of expensive perfume, a sharp floral scent that made my stomach turn. "Helen, I feel awful about this. But you know how Richard gets in the dark. He just needs a man around to feel secure."

"My seven-year-old daughter has leukemia," I said, my voice dead flat. "She needs her father."

Dora lowered her gaze. "I told Anson we could take a cab."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dora," Anson snapped at her, then glared at me. "It’s a twenty-minute drive, Helen. Stop acting like I’m moving to another country."

"Tomorrow is the transplant," I reminded him. "You need to be rested. You need to be here, with Anna."

Anson grabbed his coat from the rack. "The extraction isn't until tomorrow morning. I'll sleep when I get back. Anna is already half-asleep anyway."

I pointed toward the dining room. Anna sat silently in her chair. A pink paper crown rested crookedly on her bald head. She hadn't touched the slice of chocolate cake in front of her. She just watched us with hollow, tired eyes.

"She's awake," I said. "And she wants you to read her a story."

"I'll read to her tomorrow after the procedure," Anson said, shoving his arms into his sleeves. "Jesus, Helen. Give me a break. I'm donating my bone marrow to save her. You act like I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster," I said. "You're just never here."

"I provide for this family!"

"You provide money. You don't provide time." I dug my fingernails into my palms to keep from screaming. "Look around, Anson. I hung those streamers. I baked that cake. Anna sat there waiting for you to come home from work, and you walked in with them."

"Richard wanted to see the decorations," Anson said defensively.

"Richard blew out her candles!" I shouted.

"He's just a kid," Anson muttered. "He got excited."

"He got excited? This is Anna's seventh birthday. She spent the entire morning vomiting from her pre-op meds, just so she could sit at this table and have cake with her father."

"And I was here for the cake," Anson shot back.

"You were on your phone! Texting Dora!"

Dora shifted uncomfortably. "Helen, we were just coordinating the carpool for Richard's soccer practice. It wasn't anything secretive."

"I didn't ask you," I snapped at her.

Anson stepped between us, shielding Dora from my gaze. "Don't talk to her like that. She’s a guest in our home."

"She’s an intruder."

"You're acting crazy." Anson shook his head. "You've been acting crazy for months."

"My daughter is dying, Anson!"

"And I'm saving her!" he roared. The sudden volume echoed off the walls.

Silence fell over the room. I glanced