After ensuring Martha had eaten dinner, the two women settled in for a chat. The conversation inevitably circled back to Willow. Worried about her daughter's career, Martha asked when she was flying back to Seattle.
Not wanting to drop the bombs of her divorce and resignation just yet, Willow deflected. "Let's hold off on that until you're discharged."
"That could be months from now," Martha said, waving a hand. "The doctors said we have to wait for the chemo results before the transplant. But I'm feeling great, so don't you worry about me. You can go back to work. The nurses here are angels, I can manage on my own."
"What, you sick of me already?" Willow teased, trying to lighten the mood.
"You know that's not it," Martha sighed, a rare shadow of melancholy crossing her face. "I'm just worried Julian will be upset if you abandon him for too long."
Martha didn't know the dark reality of their marriage, but she wasn't entirely blind. Willow actively avoided talking about Julian, and her son-in-law hadn't shown his face once since she was diagnosed with a deadly illness.
Willow felt a suffocating weight in her chest but forced a smile. "Don't overthink it, Mom. Your only job is to recover. Stress is terrible for your immune system."
This time, Martha didn't back down. She fixed Willow with a sharp, maternal stare. "Look me in the eye and tell me the truth. Are you and Julian having problems?"
"No," Willow lied smoothly. "We're doing great. Drop it."
"If you're doing so great, why hasn't he visited me once?"



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