Chapter 7

The annual company party was held in the grand ballroom of a five-star hotel downtown.

Greta was in a burgundy dress, her hair pinned up to show off her collarbone, the scar she'd been nursing for a month had faded.

She walked in holding onto my arm, and a few coworkers glanced our way.

"Man, your wife stunning," someone called out to me.

"Thanks," Greta replied with a smile, her fingers squeezing my arm just a bit, like she was making sure I was really there.

I led her to our department's table, pulled out her chair, and poured her…