Chapter 1 - The Cold Coffee
The coffee in my mug had gone cold, and I hadn't noticed. I couldn't remember lifting it to my lips once in the last ten minutes. The phone was still warm in my hand, Dana's name fading off the screen after a call I hadn't come close to understanding.
I sat at our kitchen table and stared at the empty chair across from me. Forty minutes earlier, my husband, Aaron, had been in that chair, eating toast and checking his watch, telling me not to forget the dry cleaning.
Wait. I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me go back and explain how I ended up sitting there like the floor had dropped out from under me.
