Too Late To Save Your Dying Wife

adva

rm, the edges soft and wrinkled from the pressure of her fingers. The words 'gast

ully neutral. He pushed a brochure across the polished mahogany desk.

t inside this climate-controlled office, Corrie felt nothing but a spreading cold that started in her fingertips

cal school library. His face, usually open and kind, was now a professional mask of con

voice was a dry ra

"Corrie, don't say that. We have t

pit of her stomach. A memory, sharp and un

nning to share with Clayton that night. She'd slipped on a wet spot on the marble floor, a sudden, jarring fall. Then th

ing so hard she could barely dial. "Cl

impatient. He was at a charity gala. "

the pain stealing her

a's not feeling well. She thinks she's having a panic atta

nt forms for the D&C with a hand slick with her own blood, and lost their child

rrie's eyes, a flicker Julian had always admired, went out. She mana

a family any

t was a mechanical gesture, an attempt to impose order on

ack straight. She left Julian sitting there, the unto

d conversations. She felt utterly, profoundly alone. She pulled out her phone, her thumb hovering over

. He answered on

oard meeting." His voic

registered. The cancer had burned all of t

her voice even and devoid of

ld hear the faint, muffled voice of his assistant askin

e are you pla

ed in her ear, a final, definitive insult. A single tear, hot a

an, Clayton Lawrence tossed his phone onto the table. His handsom

t whispered. "Shoul

r on the quarterly projections. It was on his wife and her pathetic, e

rustration tightening in his chest. He dialed another number.

about dinn

red, a soothing balm on his frayed nerves. H

onight. He would let Corrie stew in her own manufactured cr

private garage of their Upper East Side mansion. He'd had a wonderful dinner

y front door, braced fo

met with silen

ed a switch, and the grand foyer flooded with

ut of place. He went upstairs, his footsteps echoing in

en he

ws of designer dresses, the shelves of shoes, the colorful collection of handbags-all gone. He walked into the

. Every last trac

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