I Finally Took My Ex-Husband’s “Three-Thousand-Dollar” Card to the Bank—Then the Manager Brought Out an Envelope with My Name
“It could.”
“Could you let it be?”
I looked at the sandwich.
“I would like to eat lunch before I decide what sort of person to be.”
She laughed once.
“Fair.”
We ate.
The bread was fresh, and I realized halfway through that I was swallowing too quickly.