“My Father Said You Needed A Wife,” She Whispered… And I Said, “He Was Right”

longer than usual while Elena’s door down the hall remained closed. I shaved carefully, avoiding the scars best I could, pulled out a white shirt smelling faintly of cedar from my mother’s trunk, wore my only pair of grease-free black jeans, and cleaned my boots. When I came downstairs, Elena was already in the living room wearing a simple deep blue continue reading …