I married an older woman for money—after her funeral, her lawyer handed me a box that revealed what I truly signed up for

are kind to me. Why?”

I looked up.

“You start tapping your fingers, like you’re counting who trusts me and who would be disappointed.”

I forced a laugh. “That’s a lot to get from a cup of tea.”

She touched the sleeve of my new coat. “You look ashamed when I notice what you need.”

“I’m not ashamed.”

“Damon.”

I hated when she said my name like that. Soft, but continue reading …