“How long have you been living like this?” I asked, gesturing to his backpack and worn clothes.
“12 years,” he said quietly. “Lost the house 3 years after you supposedly died. Richard said he couldn’t afford to help me. That the business debts were too overwhelming. I believed him because I was too heartbroken to think straight.”
I felt rage building in my chest, hot and fierce. “I worked at Murphy’s Diner all these years, thinking I was supporting us both on my own. Richard lived with me rentree. Let me cook and clean for him. Take care of him like he was still a child. And the whole time he was living off the money he stole from you.”Browse Reference
“From us,” Blaine corrected gently. “That company was our future, our retirement plan. We built it together.”
Looking at him now, I could see past the rough exterior to the man I’d fallen in love with 40 years ago. The same gentle soul, the same kind heart, just broken by years of unnecessary grief and hardship.
