Second Chance at a Broken Marriage

Sarah,

ent. A slip in the bathtub. A

nt, replaced by a cold, heavy dread in my gut. It was a feeling I c

my daughter, Emily, a

." My voice was a dry ra

er end, then a sha

I said, my voice flat. "T

n since she was five, gave me a brief, awkward hug. Mark just nodded at me, his eyes already scanning the house

hrough it like a ghost in my own home, the house I had bought for Sarah, the

mell of old books and fresh grief. The lawye

and testament of Sarah Miller," he

would pass to me, as we had always planned. I

s not what

eath all my assets, including all properties held in my name, m

ing. The house, the savings, the investments I had put

mile quickly suppressed. Emily stared s

out me?" I m

almost apologetically. "There is no m

like the floor had dropped out from under

al blow was

s stipulated a specific request." He paused. "She wishes to be buried

who had abandoned her and a young Emily, only to reappear penniless fr

his voice softening slightly,

table. My hand trembled as I picked it up. Her

vi

ee another way out. We decided to leave this world together, just like we always promised we would. I' m sorry for the pain this will

a

cide

lled herself. With him. The man s

to a million pieces. The love, the sacrifices, the life I thought we had built-all of it was a lie. A long, elaborat

t o

as standing, her fac

you say?"

er now, colder. "This is my house now. My mothe

llege tuition I had paid, whose wedding I had funded. There was no trace

rp, tearing pain ripped through my chest. I opened my mouth to scream

ame out was a

and darkness swa

, a

streamed through the window, catching dust motes dancing in the air. The familiar

e was no taste of blood in my mouth. I looked at my han

the doorway

e on her face. A vibrant,

st as I remembered it. Or, just as I thought I remembered it. "Breakfas

ed to look at the digital clock on the ni

r 12th

arriage. Back before the worst of the betra

rned eyes. And for the first time, I saw the lie

reset. And this time,

ty, hung in the air. Emily was there, chattering about her classes, her face bright and youthful. My mother-in-law, L

e doorbe

ay that I now recognized as

brightly. "I invited him. I thought it would be ni

ing older than his years, dressed in clothes that were just

led, a lazy, confident smile. It was the smile of a man who knew

s, who was now beaming at her biological father. Th

ened around m

ing through the chatter. "It's

m went