Six months ago, I had planned to apply for this program.
But when I decided to marry Damon, I never turned in the application.
Just then, my phone lit up.
It was Damon.
I answered.
"Margaret." His voice was hoarse. "Where are you? I'll come find you. Let's meet and talk this through."
'Talk this through? What is there left to talk about?'
And yet, I still agreed.
Half an hour later, he showed up at my office with a cup of coffee from my favorite café.
"Margaret." He set the coffee down in front of me. "I know you're angry with me. I screwed up with the wedding, but I really didn't mean to—"
Before he could finish, my phone rang.
It was one of my coworkers.
"Margaret, get down to the outpatient clinic. Now." Her voice was urgent. "Your sister-in-law is here. She says her son got
