Every part of me rejected that phrase. He said it casually in the hope that maybe I didn’t hear it, and maybe it didn’t have to be true, or perhaps so we could just glaze over it and move on to what was for dinner. “I’m sick,” he said.

Eventually I handed my husband the phone and asked him to call my sister so she could tell everyone. I didn’t want to face them. I didn’t want to deal with their grief on top of my own. I just wanted to fall apart and have that be okay, so I did


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