Chapter Twenty-Two
Liam
When the prints of the photos I’d taken of Mari arrived, I didn’t look at them for days.
I’d ordered them before that fight in the park. After our disagreement that night, though, I shouldn’t have tweaked fate’s nose. But I’d been hopeful. And f*****g stupid.
I grabbed a glass of whiskey and, sitting on the couch that somehow still smelled like my wife, I opened the package.
I thumbed through the photos: one of Mari smiling, looking away from me. One of Mari with her eyes closed, a pink n****e just peeking out from below the bedsheet. Mari smiling at me, every emotion under the sun shining from her face.
But I’d told her that I loved her and she hadn’t told me the same. And then I’d said those words I wished I could take back. And now our marriage was over, an
