I asked you to.”
“I found an envelope.”
The room went still.
Her face changed.
“You read it?”
“No.”
She stared at me, searching for the lie.
There wasn’t one.
After a moment, she looked away.
“Thank you.”
“What is it?”
“A letter.”
“I figured that much.”
She almost smiled, but not quite.
“I wrote it after my first appointment with Dr. Keller.”
My pulse quickened.
“Before the divorce?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
She looked toward the window.
“Because by the time I finished writing it, you came home late from work, ate dinner standing at the counter, and told me you were too tired to talk.”
I closed my eyes.
“And the next day?” I asked quietly.
“The next day you said maybe we should get divorced.”
I sank into the chair.
The timing was unbearable.
A letter.
There had been a letter.
Maybe the
