All at once, Lillian grasped what Anton was saying to her, and her stomach contracted violently with dread. “Wait. Are you telling me that you’re the one who hit him?”

Anton said nothing for a moment, and then at long last, he nodded.

If Lillian hadn’t been sitting down, her knees might have buckled. “Oh my God, Anton. You didn’t do it on purpose, did you? It was an accident, right?”

“Of course it was,” he quickly replied. “It was early. The sun was barely up, and there was a heavy mist. It seemed like he came out of nowhere.”

“He didn’t hear you coming?” she asked, struggling to understand.

“I don’t know, but there’s no shoulder on that road, and I was coming around a bend. Maybe I was going too fast.”

Feeling sick enough to throw up, Lillian stood and walked to the window in the waiting room, where she stared at the glass, unable to see through it to the world beyond. The morning sun seemed to reveal a foggy film of dust and fingerprints that begged to be cleaned. She reached out and marked an X in the grime, then inspected her forefinger. The world seemed suddenly soiled and dirty, and she wiped her finger on her hip.

Anton’s voice shook with anguish. “Do you believe me, Lillian? That it was an accident?”

“Of course,” she replied, her voice heavy and listless. “I know you would never try to hurt anybody like that.”

Or would he? How well did she really know him? They said love could be blind . . .

The nurse walked into the waiting area, and they both turned to her.

“Are you Mrs. Bell?” she asked.

“Yes,” Lillian replied.

“Would you come with me, please? Dr. Santarossa would like to speak with you.”

Without looking back at Anton, Lillian hurried to follow the nurse.

The doctor was just finishing up a phone call at the nurses’ station when Lillian approached.

“This is Freddie Bell’s wife,” the nurse said to him.

He hung up the phone and turned to her. “You’re from America?”

“Yes. How is he?”

“We’re still working on stabilizing him,” the doctor replied. “The good news is that he’s regained consciousness.”

She laid her hand over her heart. “Thank goodness.”

“But he’s had a very serious injury,” the doctor continued. “He can’t move his fingers or toes, and the x-ray has confirmed a C6-level fracture on his spinal cord.”

Lillian frowned and shook her head at him. “You’ll need to explain that to me. What does it mean?”

“It means . . .” He paused for a few seconds. “The bottom line is that this is a very serious situation, more than we can handle here. We’re just a community hospital. He needs to be transferred to a trauma center in Turin. We’ve sent for a helicopter.”

All the blood rushed to Lillian’s head, and she felt sick and dizzy. “I’m sorry . . . what are you saying . . . exactly? Are you telling me that my husband is paralyzed? That he won’t be able to walk?”

The doctor’s expression was grim and serious. “All I can say is that right now he has no feeling in his legs or arms, which is not a good sign, but he has to get through the next few days before we can begin to determine a long-term prognosis.”

Her head drew back. “What do you mean . . . ‘get through the next few days’?”

The doctor reached for a clipboard on the nurses’ station counter. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bell, but your husband is very seriously injured. You’ll need to prepare yourself for what might come. And we’re going to need you to answer some questions. Do you have medical insurance?”

She was barely able to comprehend what he was asking her. “Yes, I have travel insurance for both of us.”

“Good. The nurse will get that information from you. And as your husband’s next of kin, you may need to make some decisions about consenting to treatments or surgery, so we’ll need you to sign some papers right away.”

Her heartbeat skyrocketed. “I thought you said he was conscious.”

“He is, but he’s drowsy from the medications, and he’s not out of the woods yet.”

“Do you mean he could die?”

The doctor paused. “I don’t want to frighten you, but if you have close family members, you should call them.” He turned to the nurse. “She can see him now, but keep it brief.”

Everything seemed to be happening in a blur of sound and movement as the nurse began to lead her away. “Come with me,” she said, and Lillian felt as if she were falling out of a dream and into a nightmare.

The nurse pushed a curtain aside to reveal Freddie on a hospital bed with a brace around his neck. He appeared to be sleeping, but as Lillian approached and bent over him, his eyes fluttered open. “Lil?”

She took hold of his hand. “Yes, I’m here, sweetheart.”

He began to weep.

“No . . .” She pressed her cheek to his. “Everything’s going to be fine. They’re taking good care of you, and I’m here now.” She drew back and cupped his cheek in her hand.

His brow furrowed with pain. “I saw you with him.”

His words came at her like a knife. They lodged in her chest, and for a devastating moment, she couldn’t breathe.

Freddie whimpered softly.

“Freddie, no, please, sweetheart . . .” She bent over him and tried to comfort him with soft kisses and soothing words.

“Do you love him?” he asked, his voice barely perceptible.

No matter the truth, she couldn’t possibly answer that question in the affirmative. Not now, in this moment.

“I love you, Freddie. The only thing that matters is that I’m here with you now, and you need to get better. Don’t think about anything else.”

He spoke slowly, his words slurred. “I can’t get it out of my head . . . what I saw.”

She kissed his hand. “I’m so sorry. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. But please don’t think about what you saw. I love you. You’re my everything.”

He lay quiet, unresponsive, eyes closed. For a long while, she sat next to him, never taking her eyes off him.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what, darling? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I left you alone.”

She swallowed uncomfortably. “You had your book to write. It was important to you. It was important to both of us.”

He fell asleep, but after a moment, he opened his eyes and blinked up at the ceiling. “It was stupid of me. I didn’t want this to happen.”

She stood up and bent over him. “What was stupid, Freddie?” He didn’t answer, so she whispered, “Freddie? Can you hear me?”

Panic shot through her veins, and she glanced up, wondering if she should call for the nurse.

The nurse yanked the curtain aside just then. “He needs to rest now,” she said. “Come with me, please.”

“Can’t I stay?” Lillian asked.

“No, he’s not stable, and the doctor needs to come in. You can wait outside. We’ll let you know when the helicopter arrives.”