14
Michael
I paced the living room in my bare feet, and a glass of wine I’d poured an hour earlier remained untouched. Spencer had to be home by now, and must have discovered the roses and the card. I’d sat at my desk all day working on that silly poem. Whenever Dad came into the office to yell at me I’d hide it under my paperwork, barely able to focus on anything he said. Countless sappy love poems were balled up in the trash can under the desk, and it wasn’t until the day was almost over that it dawned on me that a heartfelt declaration of love was the last thing Spencer would want. I’d already ordered the roses and wasn’t going to let them go to waste, but instead of romantic words I scribbled out that silly poem on the tiny white card, hoping to make him laugh. He wasn’t here, so I h
