She Chose Him, He Chose Her

red the news: my father was gone. My world tilted, and the only person I

e," I choked out. Her response? A cold rustle of indifference, then "Mark is here. We're busy." Mark Davis, her c

to fund her piano dreams, celebrating her every triumph and consoling every frustration-all for this. I w

, unfamiliar cologne hung in our bedroom, in our bed. Her text arrived: Sorry about your dad. Things got a little crazy here. Call you tomorrow. Then, a group chat notificat

certainty. I had been a bandage for her old wounds. Now that the wound-causer was back, I was

ted pa