A boat I had paid for.

I stood slowly.

The chair legs whispered across the hardwood floor. The dining room seemed to expand around me, every polished surface reflecting another version of my own foolishness.

The chandelier. The silver. The imported rug. The mahogany table. The beautiful house I’d maintained for decades as if my family’s soul still lived inside it.

That soul had left when Nancy died.

I’d simply refused to accept it.