I Married a Stranger in a Hospital Waiting Room So He Wouldn’t Die Alone—One Week Later, His Lawyer Handed Me His Backpack

the tray table.

The soda can pull tab he’d used as my wedding ring circled my finger, light as a joke and heavy as a vow.

“What truth?” I asked.

The pillow still held the dent of his head.

The attorney’s mouth trembled slightly.

“He said you would understand better if you opened it alone.”

Then he left.

That was how Thomas did things.

Softly.

Sideways.

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