The Smell of a Hard Shift
That was the blood on the collar she couldn’t throw out and couldn’t explain.
Chapter 20 — The Scent of Rust
I sat down on the floor beside her, the last of the anger gone, replaced by a hollow ache.
“Do you know why I change my clothes in the driveway?” she wept.
“Why I use that heavy, cheap perfume?
It was never to cover another man.