I’d been so sure I was doing the right thing.
I was. I still believe that. I’d do it again. A man who leaves a six-year-old on a curb doesn’t get to come home.
But I’d never once thought about what was happening to him on the other side of that door.
I’d never once wondered if he was trying.
I reached over in the dark.
Ezoic
I took Greg’s hand.
Ezoic
It was so thin. Just bones under yellow skin. His wedding ring was gone. But there was a pale line on his finger where it used to be. Ten years later. Still there.
He opened his eyes.
“Laura?”
“I read your letter,” I said.
He was quiet for a long time.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I shouldn’t have—”
“I forgive you,” I said.
He stopped.
He looked at me. His yellow eyes filled up.
