t day in bed with a slight fever. I didn't care where Ethan
w email. It was my flight
June 20th
. Ethan's
s birthday would be my final, silent gift to
rt supplies and a few changes of clothes into a new suitcase. Everything e
came home alone. He found me in th
own on his face. He seemed to look at me
ngs," I said, not looking up f
tment downtown," he said, his voice flat.
one. It was meant to be a punishment,
. "Can I come to your b
k settled over his features. "It's just a small g
ught. Then he turned and went to hi
y donation bin at the end of the driveway. Peering inside, I saw it-the sketchbook I'd
he rain-soaked pag
it of him and Amelia, smiling, the perfect couple. I poured every last ounce of my unrequited love, my decade of
car pull up. He came in, stum
flex born of years of hab
e pulled me close, his face buried in my hair. His
mured, his voice t
ps crashed d
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