CHANGES

It doesn't look good.

Just four words. Four little words. Four little words that took everything I loved and held dear and crushed it into a million pieces.

It doesn't look good.

My head was spinning as a wave of panic surged through my body. I willed myself to look calm and matter-of-fact as I stole a glance at Rick who was sitting rigid and expressionless in the chair beside me. The only hint at his reaction was that the color had completely drained from his face.

I reached out and put my hand on his knee. Rick continued to stare straight ahead at the doctor seated behind the large desk that divided us.

"As it is now late on Friday evening, we will need to wait until Monday to get the full results of the blood tests and the endoscopy," the doctor intoned.

He began shuffling paperwork on his desk. I sensed he wanted us to go. It was getting late. Most of the other departments had already closed, and staff were quickly exiting the building. Yet Rick and I didn't move. We were waiting for the punchline.

But I am sure there is nothing to worry about.

The punchline never came.

Finally, with the awkward silence enveloping us, we got to our feet and walked outside. Neither of us said a word as we stumbled to our car. As we passed the reception area, a nurse was chatting loudly with the woman seated behind the large desk. Just as we passed, the receptionist let out a hoot of laughter at her friend's joke.

How can you be laughing at a time like this? I thought. Just how?

The car park was half-full. It was a private hospital, and most of the day patients had no doubt long gone home and were looking forward to a weekend with their families. We found our car, and Rick clicked the key fob to unlock the door. I slipped into the passenger seat, my heart still thumping.

"Don't worry. I'm sure it is nothing," Rick said. He wasn't looking at me. He was staring ahead, his hands gripping the top of the steering wheel tightly. So tightly, in fact, his knuckles were almost white.

I swallowed hard. I knew I needed to say something but didn't know what. In our relationship, Rick had always been the more upbeat one — the glass-half-full type. Somehow, he'd found the positive in everything. I was the one who always took a serious approach, while Rick kept his childlike manner. If anyone ever did or said something negative to me, he'd jump right in and tell me it wasn't meant in that way.

Now it was my turn to return the compliment. Except I couldn't speak.

"I told you we should have gone on that trip around Europe before visiting the doctor," Rick said at last with a faint smile as he started the car and gunned the engine.

As we drove through the lanes in the fading light, I just kept going over and over what the doctor had said. I could still see him sitting in front of me, a short, dark-haired man with a serious expression as his brown eyes blinked behind his half-moon glasses.

It doesn 't look good.

As I replayed it over and over, I realized with a start there was something more — something that had sent my battered emotions into free fall. It wasn't just the words the doctor had said. He'd also held my gaze for a fraction of second longer than necessary. It was barely perceptible if I hadn't been looking for it, or thinking about it, but in that moment, I recalled it. My blood almost froze. His expression seemed to be saying: brace yourself.

How had this happened? Just a day before we'd been as happy and carefree as ever, and then — boom — our whole world had shattered.

I felt a pang of guilt. Rick had only gone to the doctor because I had made him. He hadn't wanted to come to England at all. He was quite happy to stay in our home in Abu Dhabi, enjoying the sunshine and catching up with a game of golf after work. The light evenings and perpetual warm weather always allowed for a quick hit of a few balls to relax.

"You go with the kids," he'd said over and over again leading up to the trip. "You know I hate England. It's always so cold and wet. It's depressing."

It had been the same every year since we'd moved to the Gulf States for Rick's job as a driller on the oil rigs. Eighteen years we'd spent out there, traveling around various areas: Doha, Qatar, Bahrain, Dubai; and, most recently, Abu Dhabi, where we had settled a couple of times. We always seemed to be drawn back to Abu Dhabi. Our kids, Ellie, now twenty, and Jack, nineteen, had grown up there. I loved our life out there but also wanted to come home each year to see friends and family.

Mind you, after weeks of arguing with Rick to make the annual trip, I'd have virtually the same conversation with everyone in the UK when we visited.

"Why would you ever leave Abu Dhabi?" they'd ask incredulously. "You're so lucky to live there!"

They were right too. Our lives out there were perfect. Nothing needed to change. We'd spend careless weekends speeding around in our boat in the calm blue waters of the Persian Gulf. Sometimes we'd hunt for dolphins, squealing with delight when we found them and they'd swim effortlessly alongside us. None of us ever lost the thrill of seeing these beautiful creatures up close. On one occasion, I encountered a heartbreaking scene. I saw two adult dolphins swimming together, and one of the adults was carrying the lifeless form of a young dolphin. The mother was in mourning, unwilling to let go of her calf, they continue to do this for days until complete exhaustion takes over and they have no other option but to let go. Luckily, I only encountered anything this tragic once. On every other occasion, we were greeted with playful dolphins, jumping in and out of the water, as if they were putting on a show just for us.

In fact, when my father, Bill, had visited, he had laughed and said that he had paid a fortunate to go dolphin spotting on previous holidays, yet had never seen a single one. Here, though, you could barely avoid them. On other days, we'd just while away the hours going nowhere in particular, gazing at the billionaire super yachts sailing self-importantly around the bay. Rick always liked to look out for the deserted islands too, perhaps dreaming of building a sumptuous retreat on one. We'd always end the day with a barbecue on the beaches, feeling the golden sand beneath our bare feet, relishing the warmth and beauty of the setting sun.

Weekdays were luxurious too. Rick's earnings were tax-free, so we wanted for nothing, in light of our financial situation Rick preferred that I didn't work. I looked after the kids, and when they were at school, I busied myself with preparing for one of our regular entertaining events or enjoying a leisurely life looking after myself and Rick when he came in from work. We had a traditional marriage,...