Only Leaving You My Charred Bones
Language: en
The ninth time I caught Corey Dwight in bed with another woman, he played the exact same card. He fell to his knees, slapping his own face until his cheeks were raw, begging for my forgiveness with bloodshot eyes. Just as I was about to soften—again—a dry, raspy voice echoed in my head. It was a voice that sounded old, withered, and entirely too much like my own. "Why?" the voice asked. "You already have a grandson with him. Why won't you just leave?" I froze. A grandson? Whose grandson? Then came the avalanche of regrets, whispered in my mind like a dying breath: "Corey, when we were…