Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

meals. For sixty days, that notebook had been my constant shadow, a physical record of every step, every pill, and every spoken word of kindness or complaint.

Now, it sat on the small table in the hallway, its pages filled to the very bottom of the last line.

Arthur returned with two steaming mugs, the scent of cinnamon and dried apple rising in the continue reading …