I held his hand.
“You look scared,” he whispered.
“So do you.”
“I’m allowed.”
“So am I.”
He almost smiled.
“You’ll be okay.”
“Don’t say that.”
“You will.”
“No, Jack.”
“Promise me you’ll keep going.”
“I don’t know how.”
“You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
Those were the last clear words he said to me.
Jack died without ever getting to see the birth of his second child.
I was devastated. Suddenly, I was a single mother drowning in debt, and I had no idea how I was supposed to keep living without him.
Three days later, I sat at the kitchen table with a funeral bill and two overdue notices.
The woman from the bank cleared her throat.
“There isn’t enough left to cover next month.”
“I know.”
“And the loan against the house…”
“I know about the loan.”
“Do you have any other savings?”
