stopped traveling, stopped seeing friends, and spent hours on the couch staring at old pictures of Cynthia.
He said he could never forgive himself.
There was one object he became strangely protective of: the suitcase he had taken to Disney.
After he returned home, Gary shoved it into the back of our bedroom closet and refused to use it again.
Months later, I suggested donating it.
“Don’t,” he snapped.
The sharpness in his voice startled me.
“Don’t ever touch that suitcase.”
I gave a nervous laugh.
“Okay. Fine.”
I told
