The doctor’s wife
She is a doctor’s wife. She is more an observer of his life rather than an active participant in his profession. His mornings many times begin with a call from the relative of a dying patient. He isn't doomed. His grooming isn't affected. He dresses, polishes his shoes, ruffles his son's hair, plants a kiss on his wife's cheek, and grabs the car's key with a sprint in his leg. The doctor's wife is shocked. Someone is about to leave this world. How can he be so casual about it? But like most wives do, she keeps her opinion to herself. She will bring it up at night as a starter and then go full throttle in accusing him of being insensitive. Like he is towards his patients, he is no different towards her emotions. That night he is late. Before he gently opens the door to their bedroom, she is blissfully snoring. He quietly tosses his sweat-soaked shirt in the washing machine, caresses his son's forehead, pulls the blanket up to his wife's chin, and like ...