LilySirens wail, the sound getting closer until a large fire truck speeds by. It’s a beautiful May morning and a rarity because Charlie and I were able to snag one of the few outdoor tables at our favorite coffee shop.
I stare at my laptop as I zone out. The morning air blows my hair while the prominent background noise of New York City barely registers in the far corner of my consciousness. The constant chaos of cars, horns, and people has faded, taking a backseat to my thoughts.
My eyes are focused on my computer screen, but my mind is zeroed in on Jax. It has been two weeks since he dropped me off at my car outside the restaurant where we’d celebrated the life of his deceased wife.
It is still so strange to refer to anyone as Jax’s wife. Jax has—had a wife…who wasn’t me. The concept
