The Night Before Our Wedding, I Heard What He Really Thought of Me

that scratches?”

“No,” I said, smoothing his hair with a hand that was steadier than it had any right to be. “Leave the suit. Bring your dinosaur. Bring your Legos. Wear your pajamas.”

I loaded the bags into the trunk of my ten-year-old sedan—not the SUV Owen had leased in his name for “us,” but my car, registered to me, paid for by me, belonging to continue reading …