At the Hospital, a Nurse Told Me My Husband’s Wife and Son Were Already With Him—Then I Heard the Recording From His Crash

Anything.

We had crossed paths for fifteen minutes in the wreckage of his father’s choices.

That could simply be what it was.

Not every meaningful interaction needs a permanent relationship attached.

Alistair’s death complicated my feelings longer than I expected.

If he had lived, perhaps the divorce would have finished.

Maybe prosecutors would have charged him.

Maybe a trial.