Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

breathing growing heavier, but he did not stop.

“Do you need a minute?” I asked, reaching for the water bottle in my pocket.

“No,” he said, his voice a bit tighter now. “Keep moving.”

He kept his head down, his focus entirely on the limestone path two yards in front of his feet.

We passed the two-mile marker, and I could see the path begin to level out continue reading …