There Was an Extra Place at the Table for My Late Husband—That’s When My Son Went Pale

at his face, this face I’d loved since I was twenty-three, now marked with two years of lines I hadn’t seen form. “Why couldn’t you just tell me?” I demanded. “Why couldn’t you take me with you?”

“Because you would have come,” he said simply. “And they would have found me through you. They would have used you, Britt. Used our son. Our granddaughter.continue reading …