ment on the other side of town. It was a mess of pizza boxes a

tarted sh

her excuse being that my mother was worried I was

disaster of an apartment spotless. The trash was gone, the dishes were

, helping my mom in the garden. My mom would call me afterward, telling

nch was in trouble, deep in debt and facing foreclosure. Her family was old money,

perate, pathetic campaign. She wasn't figh

made things clear. This wasn't about l

at the altar. I saw the whispers, the pitying looks they gave her in the grocery store. She had been the q

owever, were

said one night, cornering me in their kitchen. "A

other life where my wife cheated on me and died, so I got reb

them a p

" I said, the words tasting like as

ice, the raw pain I couldn't hide, was enough. For the first time, t

rary peace, bu