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The door at the end of the ward opened, and the head nurse entered. Her gaze roamed around the room until it fell on Owen. When she met his eye, she smiled and walked toward him. This is it, he thought. She is here.
The nurse came to the foot of his bed. “Lord Fernsby, your wife is here.”
A cold sweat broke out on his brow. It was one thing to talk about the woman, but it was another to know that she was here, under the same roof. Suddenly, it was difficult to breathe. He looked around at his bedmates. What was he going to do? He would be alone, without the support of his friends, out in the world with no one to guide him.
“I guess this is goodbye,” Bamford said.
Owen whipped his head around to look at his friend. “Now that she is here, I’m not sure I want to leave. You and the others are the only thing I know.” His throat constricted.
“Now you will have your wife to lean on. Allow her to guide you. Good luck, my friend.”
Owen collected his things, then said his farewells to everyone. He followed the nurse down the row of beds and out the door. As the door swung shut, Owen glanced back. It was like one chapter of his life had ended, and he faced the next part of the story. He took a fortifying breath, then walked down the hall.
