Chapter 20When I arrived home, Rachel was already in bed. I hung my coat in the hall closet and quietly slipped upstairs to my room. Inside, I carefully closed the door and walked over to my dresser. And, as I undressed, I found myself staring at the few pictures of my husband pressed under the frame of the mirror on the dresser.
I pulled my sweater over my head and gazed at his static image, trying to remember all the times I’d walked into this very room late at night to find him sitting up in bed reading, waiting for me to join him. It was so long ago now, that it felt more like an ephemeral dream, than a reality that had once been a tangible part of my life. One day he was sitting up and laughing and talking, and then suddenly he was gone, leaving a gaping wound in my existence. What r
