From Savior To Scapegoat

' d heard their words drifting

ng in that dump," the man, Brendan,

carefree. "Once the divorce is final, I' m free. I can' t

worked my fingers to th

e, the snow melting on my hair and shoulders, a cold tha

going to three different pharmacies to find the specific brand of cough syrup he liked. She' d

using a cheap, generic cream because the medicated one she' d once bought me had run out months ago.

nt was a small cut, a reminder that what I could provide was never enough. And I, like a fool, had just worked harder, pick

late that night to get

on the wall behind me. "I hope you' ll be okay." It was a

t say

' t sleep. I got up and walked into the living room. On the small bookshelf was a little velvet box. Inside was the engagement ring I' d bought two months ago, a simple

knew

skin. Then I walked to the kitchen and dropped it into the trash c

ew hours before dawn, s

ft, happy sigh. "Mmm, so happy

say my name

out of the trash. I walked to the front door, opened it, and tossed the bo