Over the next few days, I come to realize that I haven’t grieved. With the physical attack, then the affair, my body shut down to any emotion and locked down into survival mode. I feel like I’m only just now going through the five stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I sometimes experience one or all of these emotions on any day. No wonder I’m a mess.
As I walk down the stairs, I pause in awe. Charley has done a wonderful job of decorating. She’s used the bare minimum to transform my house into a cozy little home. “So how long does this go for?” I inquire, looking at my garlanded surroundings.
“I didn’t really put an end time on the invite, Tori. That would be kind of un-neighborly,” she explains, adjusting the scented candles on the mantel.
“So I guess
