ene

one, as he always was, chasing after Blair's latest manufact

planation. Just a statement of fact that had become the norm. My thum

. This was where the ghost of Arlene York could breathe. I reached under a loos

footprints, scrubbing years of online presence. Then

ed close. "Tech Titans Julian Petersen and Blai

clinking with Julian's. "Celebrating surviving

y. My thirtieth birthday. And Julian was celebrating wit

kitchen. I pulled out a frozen meal and put it i

ian stumbled in, disheveled, b

are you doin

As you

n a small, brightly colored box on the counter-the

igation? He placed the cake in front of me. "Happy

nk y

You're eating that? On your birthday?

n. The ones with Blair.

't like that. She was upset

he created herself-while your actual wife spent

ene. You know how important Bla

ess drama? I'm your wife. Your wife. B

on the counter. The cake jum

late away. "I

uzzed-Blair

e needs you. Sh

always stronger. He grabbed his keys and

e single candle on the pathetic birthday cake.

at had long ignored me. I wish to be free from t

pwards, carrying my wish into the ether, symbol