Chapter 3

I hadn't said the words out loud yet, but my eyes had already finished saying them.

He got the message.

After 24 years of knowing me, he could still read me perfectly.

"Give me some time," he said. "I... I'll handle this."

I gave him a small smile. It barely registered as one.

"Handle what, exactly? Handle your own heart?"

He didn't have an answer for that.

That night, I slept in the guest room.

The pillow was new and felt stiff under my head. The blanket smelled like mothballs. I rolled over and over again, and sleep wouldn't come.