I Spent Nearly Two Weeks Recovering From Surgery and My Husband Never Visited Once—Then I Came Home and Froze at the Front Door
He looked toward the cedar beams.
“This.”
PART 17 — THE WRONG THING HE COULD CONTROL
“I needed something to obey me.”
“What?”
“Wood.”
He almost laughed.
“Paint. Screws. Measurements.”
My throat tightened.
“If a board was too long, I cut it.”
