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“I can’t keep the rights to a business I might never return to again.” She pauses. “Won’t return to. This is for forever.” She chews on her lip. “I’m still getting used to that. It hasn’t sunk in.”
Marriages.
Children.
Our lives.
Sunday won’t be a part in any of it, and I’ll never know what happened to her.
“We’ll make the most of the time we have left. For however long that is,” I tell her.
“Thank you for letting me go.” She leans over and snatches the last few bites of the sandwich she made for herself.
“I’m not letting you go. You’ll always be that annoying voice in my head, telling me what I’m doing wrong. You’ll always be with me.”
“You make it sound like I’m dying.” Her nose scrunches with displeasure.
“Nope, it’s not the end. It’s your fresh start, and I’m happy for you.” And I am—for her, but not for me.
“Happy? I knew you’d be glad to be rid of me.”
“Sunday, shut up.” I toss the paper plate at her head.
