His Deal, My Son's Death

d son, Leo' s, stomach quickly sh

and beaded with sweat, as he whimpere

for him to pick up on the fourth try, irritated, "

appendicitis, declaring, "Give him some Tylenol. I c

rgency room, enduring endless

ications during the appendectomy. His appendix had ruptur

oy was gone because hi

his voice cheerful, "The meeting went great, we

e words, "Leo'

t' s not funny, Olivia. Don' t

ne buzzed with an Instagram post of him toasting with Dr. Evelyn Reed, his college sweetheart,

ed, "Your son is dead, and you' re c

they wheeled L

im! That' s my baby!" befo

ion, the memory of Leo'

lean break from the man

risingly supported me, their kindness

led and sneering, "Done w

"Get up, Olivia. We' re going

flinched away, my voice low a

cry some more? You' re always

sed, "Are you going to tell me again that

ut through his ignorant rage,

elieving, until Richard physic

tion, I clutched Leo' s ashes, his vibr

o gather Leo' s things

e a low, feminine laugh, follow

in my bed, while our son' s as

y silk robe, a triumph

n," she cooed, "I thought you' d b

acknowledge me, or

it' s for the best. Now he can focus

n them, walking nu

What' s that?" he asked casually, "Some kind

htening as I turned to him, my vo

king a drink of wate

his nightstand, whispered, "I' m

und his last project: a half-finis

ncomplete masterpiece

ng, sobbing for my son, his stolen future

rief passed, a cold,

aving placed divorce papers, drawn up

petty, "Leaving so soon? Don' t let the door hit yo

r tire, the broken pieces a sa

g me from the doorway, a flicker of

was t