“About a month.”
“And after that?”
“When the result came back, he sat in his car and cried for almost an hour.”
“He cried.”
I looked at her.
“Excuse me?”
“When the result came back, he sat in his car and cried for almost an hour.”
Something inside me twisted.
She placed several photographs on the table.
I had seen Warren cry maybe four times in our entire marriage.
Mallory opened her purse again.
“I brought these too.”
She placed several photographs on the table.
In one, Warren stood in a tiny apartment holding a screwdriver beside a half-built bookshelf.
Mallory was laughing.
In another, they were eating sandwiches on a park bench.
In another, he sat at a table holding an old school picture of her.
He looked devastated.
In another, they were eating sandwiches on a park bench.
They looked ordinary.
That was the hardest one.
Just a father and daughter trying to figure out what they were.
Not secretive.
