Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

Arthur,” I said. “The seal is not even broken.”

He stared at the bottle, his face tightening as he rubbed his stiff right knee under the heavy green quilt.

“I thought we were finally past the constant monitoring, Martha,” he said, his voice dropping its warm tone.

“This is not about monitoring,” I said. “This is about your heart.”

He turned away from continue reading …