y wife, who I thought was dead for ten years, stood on my lawn looking lik

o apologize. They w

said, her voice smooth and practiced.

blow. The world tilted, my heart

The cheap, overpowering

pew in St. Michael's church. My own church. In

of her funeral.

er hand gripping my arm. Her younger daughter, Gabby,

grief. "I know this is too much to ask. But the

ed. I told her I could handle it on my own, that I would raise my son

rry you. Just on paper. To give the boy

fied by the suggestion. It fe

a broken heart. This man, the one sitting in the pew, was filled with a cold, hard re

this

t Gabby, who looked start

my voice stead

wn her face. Gabby just stared at me, her

was going to build a fortress around my life so strong that when Nicol