I locked my wife in the pantry under the stairs

Andrew. That marriage had your mother’s lock on it.”

“I don’t want that one back.”

“What do you want?”

I look through the apartment doorway at Nora sleeping in her crib, at the woman who survived my cowardice, at the life that stands in front of me not as something I own, but as something I may be allowed to protect if I become worthy and stay worthy.continue reading …