Wendy
My mind spiraled before I could stop it.
We had been separated for five years. Five years of icy silence. Five years of separate bedrooms and resentment and distance sharp enough to cut skin.
Had there been someone else during that time?
Had another woman stood in this closet and handed him that tie? Had someone else once made him smile like that?
Had I given it to him?
Was it connected to some precious memory from the beginning of our marriage? Some perfect day my damaged brain had cruelly erased while Reed still carried every detail?
The uncertainty clawed at me.
I hated not knowing.
But asking directly felt strangely terrifying.
If the tie belonged to another woman, I wasn’t sure my already fragile heart could survive hearing it aloud.
And if it belonged to me… the guil
