He Married Me Dying, Then His Lawyer Opened the Box

was another thing in the box. Under the letters, beneath the photograph, under a legal envelope Gerald had not yet opened. A small address book held shut with a rubber band gone brittle with age.

My name was on the first page.

Not my old address.

Not the dorm. Not the apartment I rented after graduate school. Not the house in Dayton where my late husband continue reading …