rest of breakfast.
At 8:05 a.m., Eliam picked up his laptop bag, kissed me goodbye, and walked out the door.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he said.
“Have a good day.”
I waited until his car disappeared around the corner before grabbing my keys.
My hands were shaking so badly that I had to sit for a moment before starting the engine.
I felt ridiculous.
I was following my own husband as though he were a stranger suspected of committing a crime. I had never imagined that my marriage
