Connor smiled as he sat there, outwardly calm and at ease but inwardly scared out of his mind. The fact that he was on the literal edge of his seat, unwilling to even lean back or relax his posture should have told anyone nearby that, despite his smile and other demeanor.

It wasn't hard to see why. He was being released from the hospital and his wife was finally in town and able to pick him up. He had told her to finish her conference, telling her to focus on her work for and not him, that he would be fine. In truth, he didn't know how to tell her the truth, that he hadn't been fine, that he had been in a terrible accident and his head had to be attached onto the donor body of a woman to save his life.

Now, here was the moment of truth for him, and he now realized how foolish he was to not tell her. She was completely unprepared for what she was about to see and his delaying strategy, it seemed, was now likely to backfire big time.

He heard heels clicking on the floor and he turned to see her. She started to walk towards him, a smile on her face, and as he stood up, she hugged him strongly, so strongly he had to rebalancing himself so he didn't fall over.

"How..."

"Trisha told me." She said. Trish was their adult daughter. "I've known literally before the procedure started. Who do you think authorized it while you were being kept alive, huh?"

He hadn't thought about that, and everything had been such a whirlwind that it would have never occurred to him that it would have been her.

"You're not mad I didn't tell you?"

"Well, yeah, but hell, Dave, it's not like there's a good way to tell someone this! Don't worry about it, I mean it. Now, let's get you home."

"Oh god, thank you!" He said, his voice cracking, his eyes moist. "It was stupid of me. I..."

"We can unpack all of the psychology of this in time, and later. I just came from the airport and I think we both want out of these heels. Let's go."