Chapter Twenty-six
Walking up the apartment steps, I placed my key in the door and opened it. I hated most of what I saw. I’d tear the curtains down, recover the sofa, throw away the doilies and the hearts on the wall. They’d be replaced with bold colors, rich wood, and some decent art. I wasn’t the same sweet and gentle woman that had left so many weeks before. Maybe moving would be easier.
And yet, something in the room caught my eye. Out of place. A bowl. A blown glass bowl filled with fresh fruit – I’d seen it before. Beside it a bottle of Merlot. And the apartment that should have suffered from lack of care was clean. In the refrigerator was fresh food, vegetables, fruit and pasta sauce.
Will.
I’d wondered all day about us, about what had really happened in our relationship and wh
