8
Alex
Claire looked exhausted. And who could blame her? The past year had to have been a complete nightmare for her, and her return home had caused a firestorm of activity that wasn’t showing any signs of slowing down.
I watched her try to smile and drum up the enthusiasm to answer all of the questions being rapid-fired from our nosy neighbor, Mrs. Barclay.
My wife looked like a fragile, brittle, and hollow shell of the vibrant and beautiful woman she’d been a year ago. The ornery glint that perpetually lit up her sparkling eyes had been dimmed––replaced by flat, shadowed sadness. She’d lost weight, but more than that, it seemed like the life had been vacuumed right out of her.
It pained me to see her like this. I’d do anything to make it better for her, but I didn’t know what she ne
