My Husband Forced Me To Set The Table And Apologize Until The Doorbell Rang

through the available responses, deciding which one would be most useful. He straightened his shirt, a small gesture that seemed to be directed at himself, as if composure could retroactively undo what his hands had done.

“At noon,” he said quietly, “you’ll fix this.”

Then he walked out and closed the door behind him.

I stood with one hand on the dresser,continue reading …