He was thirty-eight years old.
He was a retired military man, and some habits never leave you.
The most important thing is this: never go into battle until you have all your ammunition ready.
I organized the party myself.
I chose the ballroom, the live band, the three-tiered cake.
I even had our initials embroidered on the towels.
Ten years with Eric.
Ten years.
That morning, I ironed his blue shirt myself, the one he always said was his favorite.
Natalie was my younger sister.
The baby I carried all around the house.
My sister, whose debts I paid off before our parents found out.
She arrived wearing a red dress, hugged me tightly, and whispered in my ear:
“I love you very much, little sister.”
