The Ninth Goodbye: My Husband's Cruel Bet

ie

ty exhaust or the cloying sweetness of expe

all coastal town, letting the cold wind num

t Ga

chimed, not a jarring digital

ying canvas-a scent that used to be my entire world

t wearing a bespoke suit or a stiff collar. He was wearing a paint-s

tur

an C

eyes were the same. Calm. Deep. The kind of

he said softly, wipi

d. The rag fel

ll

elt stiff, like a mask I'd forg

looked at me. "I heard you w

way to put

ndary I hadn't even realized I'd set. "You look..." He paused, his ga

s in the corner. It was facing the

e because it was the only thing hid

the clo

ath hi

nished, raw. It was a woman standing on a brid

our junior yea

om corner. The date

ecise script: For El

s was busy buying Izzy drinks at the student union. Seven

s voice low, hovering right behind my

u keep it?"

rth keeping," he said. "Eve

the sky b

anes. It wasn't a warning;

ported me instantly back to the Montauk Highway. The bl

gs ga

t hit t

idn't hold me like he was possessing me. He held

oice a vibration against my spi

didn't ask questions. He went to the b

"You used to drink it

. He remembered my tea order from college

id, my voice shak

ing on a stool opposite me. He leaned forward

charcoal against paper. I watched his hand move-q

om his pad and slid

the last sixty seconds. It was me,

I didn't look broken

w I see you

my eyes. Hot

ankle, and I did something I hadn'

y arms arou

arms around my waist. He held me through the

llie," he whispered into my

me. They severed the last th