My mother-in-law pointed at the door during New Year’s dinner and snapped, **“If you don’t like my rules, get out!”** – Welcome

right.”

I turned toward the door.

His hand caught mine.

“I have no excuse, Susan.”

I looked down at his fingers wrapped around mine.

“And I have no right to ask you for anything,” he murmured.

“Then don’t.”

His grip loosened.

“Give me seven days.”

I stared at him.

“Why?”

His breathing was shallow.

“Because time is something I don’t have.”

I should have left.

Instead,continue reading …