He Asked Me to Stop Talking About My Cancer

at the same time.

Marcus’s truck wasn’t there.

But a charcoal grill was.

Set up on the back patio.

Folding chairs in the yard.

Empty beer bottles lined along the railing like he’d forgotten they were visible from the kitchen.

Allison turned off the engine and stared through the windshield.

“You’re kidding me.”

There were greasy paper plates in a trash bag continue reading …