Back To The Car
Sarah and I walked back to the car in silence, the gravel crunching softly beneath our feet. My thoughts spun wildly, tangled in the weight of everything Katie had revealed. The cemetery around us felt almost cinematic, as though I were caught in a scene from someone else’s story. I couldn’t even begin to untangle the chaos in my mind, let alone put it into words. “You okay?” Sarah asked softly, her voice breaking through the haze. “I don’t know,” I murmured, still struggling to process it all. How had my life unraveled so quickly?
Back To The Car
Conversations Revisited
As we drove home, my mind replayed past conversations with my husband on an endless loop, like fragmented scenes from an old movie. Were there clues buried in his words that I had missed? I found myself dissecting every phrase, searching for any trace of his hidden life. Every “I love you” and “I’ll be late” seemed to carry a new, unsettling weight—layers of meaning I wasn’t ready to confront.
Conversations Revisited
