t day in bed with a slight fever. I didn't care where Ethan

w email. It was my flight

June 20th

. Ethan's

s birthday would be my final, silent gift to

rt supplies and a few changes of clothes into a new suitcase. Everything e

came home alone. He found me in th

own on his face. He seemed to look at me

ngs," I said, not looking up f

tment downtown," he said, his voice flat.

one. It was meant to be a punishment,

. "Can I come to your b

k settled over his features. "It's just a small g

ught. Then he turned and went to hi

y donation bin at the end of the driveway. Peering inside, I saw it-the sketchbook I'd

he rain-soaked pag

it of him and Amelia, smiling, the perfect couple. I poured every last ounce of my unrequited love, my decade of

car pull up. He came in, stum

flex born of years of hab

e pulled me close, his face buried in my hair. His

mured, his voice t

ps crashed d