From Savior To Scapegoat
' d heard their words drifting
ng in that dump," the man, Brendan,
carefree. "Once the divorce is final, I' m free. I can' t
worked my fingers to th
e, the snow melting on my hair and shoulders, a cold tha
going to three different pharmacies to find the specific brand of cough syrup he liked. She' d
using a cheap, generic cream because the medicated one she' d once bought me had run out months ago.
nt was a small cut, a reminder that what I could provide was never enough. And I, like a fool, had just worked harder, pick
late that night to get
on the wall behind me. "I hope you' ll be okay." It was a
t say
' t sleep. I got up and walked into the living room. On the small bookshelf was a little velvet box. Inside was the engagement ring I' d bought two months ago, a simple
knew
skin. Then I walked to the kitchen and dropped it into the trash c
ew hours before dawn, s
ft, happy sigh. "Mmm, so happy
say my name
out of the trash. I walked to the front door, opened it, and tossed the bo