that account for the way Rishi had been acting? Was he so worried about his health that there was no room for her in his life just now? Perhaps he was dying, and he wanted her to adjust slowly to losing him.
She tried to remember if she had noticed anything different, other than his disinterest in her. Had he lost weight? Was his skin sallow? Was he wincing or moving frequently, like someone in pain?
The truth was, she had been so hurt, she hadn’t noticed much of anything about her husband. When he entered a room, she left. And the need to leave was rare, because for the past weeks she had made a real attempt not to even be in the same house with him.
She went to discover what she could about Dr. Peterson. According to the White Pages, there were three in the wider metropolitan area. With a sigh she punched in the number for her voice mailbox again and listened to the message, gazing at the doctors’ phone numbers as she did. The message was from Dr. George Peterson, which was really no help, since there was no other information listed.
She was on her way to the computer to see what she could find when she realized she should simply dial the office to see if there was a recording. She did, and waited until the phone rang four times. Then Hazel began to speak.
Janya listened carefully, pressed the hang-up button, redialed and listened again, before she put the telephone back in its cradle.
Andrology Associates?
She completed her trip to the computer and turned it on.
An hour later she was still clicking links when she heard the front door open.
Perhaps Rishi had come home to see the fireworks with her. That was good, because he was about to see all the fireworks he had ever bargained for, right here and now.
He came into the second bedroom, where she sat at the desk. She made no attempt to hide what was on the screen. She swiveled and examined him.
“I came home early,” he said. “I thought perhaps you wanted to go out to the beach…?”
“This is not early, Rishi. It is Saturday, the Fourth of July, and you should not have been at work at all.”
“I—”
She made a slashing motion with her hand. “I do not want to hear any more of your lies. There is no project so important you could not take this day off. To pretend otherwise is to say out loud that I am a fool.”
“I don’t—”
“Please be quiet!”
He looked astonished. She had never spoken to him this way. She had never spoken to anyone this way.
“Tell me where you were yesterday morning at nine o’clock,” she demanded.
He was startled. She could see it by the way his eyes widened. He hesitated. She knew he was trying to calculate what she might know.
“I will tell you, since you find it so difficult,” she said. “You were at the office of Dr. George Peterson, an andrologist. And shall I tell you what his specialty is?”
“Janya…”
“Male infertility.” She gestured to the screen behind her. “He has written articles for medical journals. The abstracts are online. And I am educated enough to know what all those long, difficult words mean, Rishi. He seems particularly adept at varicocele repair.”
He swallowed. Then he turned and walked out of the room. She was after him like a stone released from a slingshot.
She grabbed his arm. “Is that why you saw him, perhaps? This specialist so famous that his articles are on the Internet?”
“I can see you aren’t in the mood for my company tonight. I will go back to work.”
“If you do, I will be gone when you return. And I will not be back at all.”
He turned, and he looked horrified. “You would leave that way?”
“I will not live with a man who lies to me.”
“I have not lied.”
“And have you told the truth?”
Rishi looked the way he might if someone close to him dropped dead at his feet. He passed a hand over his face, but he didn’t reply.
“Rishi, have you told the truth?” she repeated a little softer.
“Would you tell the truth, if you knew it meant the end of everything you ever wanted?”
The anger that had been building for weeks disappeared. Just like that. Gone, but, as the English saying proclaimed, not forgotten.
“We will sit and work this out,” she said. “We must.”
“I don’t think we can.”
“You will sit, then, and I will work it out.”
He didn’t