A Giant Biker Collapsed Crying in My Arms at a Gas Station Saying I K*lled Her

with it. He had held his grandsons — Diane’s son’s children — with it sitting in the back of his throat. He had stood at his own father’s funeral with it. He had watched Diane go through breast cancer with it.

He had never said it out loud.

Until tonight.

Until a stranger at a Shell station with dark wavy hair and a tired face and a name tag that said continue reading …