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 tightened my hand on the bag.
That episode had happened several weeks earlier.
I had become lightheaded after a shift and briefly collapsed.
My daughters had helped me get assessed, and I had been told to follow up.
I had followed up less promptly than I should have, partly because of money and partly because admitting the need for more care seemed like admitting everything else at once.
Gregory had not called me.