a half-finished cup of tea.
On her nightstand was a framed photo I recognized immediately.
Our wedding day.
Sophie had not removed it.
She had turned it facedown.
I stood there for a long moment, staring at the back of the frame.
Then I gently left it exactly as I found it.
In the top drawer, while looking for the charger she had requested, I found a sealed envelope with my name on it.
Ethan.
My heart began to pound.
For several seconds, I held it in my hand, tempted by the weight of it.
Then I placed it back.
Whatever was inside belonged to Sophie until she chose otherwise.
When I returned to the hospital with her things, she noticed something in my face.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You’ve always been terrible at nothing.”
I set the bag down.
“I went to your apartment.”
“I know.
