The Person Who Walked Into That Diner Knew My Husband’s Secret

you.”

Loved.

Past tense by accident, maybe. Maybe not.

I stood up so fast my knee hit the underside of the table.

Coffee sloshed. Silverware rattled.

“I don’t care,” I said.

And I meant it.

I didn’t care what version of love had lived in him. Not the kind that lies over your sleeping body. Not the kind that tattoos one woman, marries another, and hands himself continue reading …