My Husband Planned His Wedding While I Was Comatose

Grayson wheels me through the house after breakfast. He calls it a tour. Like I'm a guest.

"Just want you to get reacquainted," he says.

I recognize the walls. The floors. The couch in the living room. But everything else is wrong. The throw pillows are different. The coffee table books aren't mine. There's a large potted plant in the corner I've never seen.

We pass the kitchen. I see matching mugs on the shelf. One has a "G" on it. The other has an "L."

I don't ask.

We move down the hallway. Grayson slows near the master bedroom. The door is closed.

"Can I see it?" I ask quietly.

He hesitates. "It's a bit cluttered right now. I wasn't expecting—I mean, I didn't have time to—"

"It's okay," I say. "I just want to look."

He opens the door halfway. Reaches inside for something on the dresser. A phone charger, he says.

But I see past him.

Perfume bottles lined up on my dresser. Small. Elegant. Not mine. A silk robe hanging on the back of the door. Cream-colored. I never wore cream.

The bed is made. There are two pillows.

Grayson pulls the door shut quickly. "I'll clean it up later. You'll be comfortable downstairs anyway. Easier access."

I nod. My throat is tight.

He wheels me back toward the living room. I don't ask about the bedroom again.

---

Later, I tell him I want to go outside.

He takes me through the back door. Down the new ramp. Into the garden.

I used to spend hours out here. I planted everything myself. Sunflowers along the back fence. My favorite. Tall and bright and impossible to miss.

They're gone.

In their place are rows of deep violet irises. Perfect. Symmetrical. Not a single weed.

I wheel myself closer. My hands shake as I reach forward and touch one of the petals. It's soft. Cold.

"They look nice, don't they?" Grayson says behind me. "Lily suggested them. The sunflowers were getting overgrown. They needed to go."

I don't turn around. I keep staring at the irises.

"They were mine," I say quietly.

He doesn't hear me. Or pretends not to.

"We should head back in," he says. "You don't want to get too tired."

He wheels me inside. I don't look back at the garden.

---

The next afternoon, I tell Grayson I want to pick Jasper up from school.

He looks uncomfortable. "Are you sure? It's a lot of—"

"I want to see my son," I say.

He nods slowly. "Okay. I'll drive."

We arrive at the elementary school ten minutes early. Grayson parks near the front entrance. Parents are already gathering. Some are talking. Some are on their phones.

I watch the door. My heart is pounding.

Then I see her.

Lily.

She's standing near the entrance. Dark hair pulled back. Stylish coat. She's talking to another parent. Smiling.

I turn to Grayson. "Why is she here?"

He shifts in his seat. "She came just in case. She usually picks him up. I thought—"

"I'm his mother."

"I know," he says quickly. "I know. It's just—he's used to her. I didn't want him to be confused."

The school doors open. Kids pour out. Bright jackets. Backpacks. Laughter.

And then I see him.

Jasper.

He's taller. His hair is lighter. He's wearing a blue jacket I've never seen.

He runs straight past my window.

Straight to Lily.

"Mom!" he shouts.

He throws himself into her arms. She catches him. Lifts him. Spins him once. He's laughing.

I can't breathe.

Grayson gets out of the car. He walks over to them. Says something I can't hear. Lily sets Jasper down. Grayson crouches beside him. Points toward the car. Toward me.

Jasper looks over. His face changes.

He steps back. Closer to Lily.

Grayson takes his hand. Gently. Leads him toward the car.

I open the door. Try to smile.

"Hi, Jasper," I say. My voice is shaking. "I'm—I'm your mom. I've been away, but I'm back now. I've missed you so much."

He stares at me. His eyes are wide. Scared.

Then he pulls his hand away from Grayson. Runs back to Lily. Buries his face in her coat.

"I want to go home with Mom," he says. His voice is muffled. Desperate.

Lily strokes his hair. She looks at me. Her expression is careful. Sympathetic.

"It's okay, sweetie," she says softly. "Let's all go home together."

Jasper nods against her coat. He won't look at me.

Grayson walks back to the car. He doesn't say anything. Just gets in. Starts the engine.

I watch through the window as Lily buckles Jasper into her car. He's still crying.

Other parents are looking now. Whispering.

I sit in my seat. My hands are in my lap. I don't move.

Grayson pulls out of the parking lot. Lily's car follows.

I stare straight ahead.

My son called another woman Mom.

And she answered.