wedding before the end of the year. She said he wanted to give her the future she deserved.
I nodded, the motion feeling mechanical, like a doll being pulled by strings. “Congratulations,” I said. My voice sounded perfectly normal. That scared me more than the photo—the fact that I could be dying inside and still sound like a professional colleague.
By lunchtime, I knew there was no misunderstanding. I sat in the breakroom, clutching a salad I couldn’t eat, as Maya told me the story of how they met. She
