"Did that happen while I was..." I swallowed hard, trying to gather the courage to continue, "married to him?"
"It was about a year ago," he said, taking my hand and sitting next to me, as the story seemed to be long. "My i***t brother bought a furnished apartment, high enough for someone like him to consider ending it all. He gave it to one of his lovers so they could find him quickly. But when he wanted to try, he couldn't do it."
"Was he afraid of suffering?" I guessed.
"No, he wasn't afraid of suffering nor of death. He had already decided," he said very confidently, "that night he called me after many drinks, made me go to that apartment, and when I arrived, I found him sitting near a wall with an empty bottle by his side and a peculiar box in his hand with a note. I sat next to hi
