I locked my wife in the pantry under the stairs

years, that sweetness has been enough. Enough to make me leave school early when she felt lonely. Enough to make me cancel trips with Emily. Enough to make me believe every woman who hurt my mother must be wrong.

Not now.

“No,” I say. “That baby needs to never learn your voice as law.”

She recoils as if I have struck her.

Good.

Some words deserve to land.continue reading …