I Finally Took My Ex-Husband’s “Three-Thousand-Dollar” Card to the Bank—Then the Manager Brought Out an Envelope with My Name
“I know.”
“I could ask.”
“I know.”
“But I am not.”
She picked up the box.
“Then let’s go home with the excellent paper clips.”
I laughed, and the sound followed us into the parking lot.
She drove me home and carried the box inside.
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