eer, a world away from my polished life in Austin. But for Ryan, my fiancé, this
for Thanksgiving and finalize our wedding plans. My father, a Texas oilman through and through, was trying
med Carl, slurred, clapping my dad on the back. "A little
amed for attention, chimed in, shuffling a worn deck of cards
for a good-natured wager, especially after a few drinks. Ryan squeezed my hand, his
r, the fun
ce. My father sat slumped at the rickety patio table, his face pal
ndred thous
ing fund I' d given him for
th a shame so deep it made my own ches
houlder, her face a mask of distress. She did
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