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Chapter 4

But my throat clogged on the words, and all I got out was, “Yeah, I’m managing. I’ll talk to you later. I need some coffee or something.”

“Okay. Love you, Dane.”

“Love you too.” I ended the call and just stared at the cell phone in my hand for what must have been five minutes.

As much as I wanted to, lying in bed all day feeling sorry for myself would not be a healthy way of dealing with my grief, so I tossed the cell back on the bedside dresser and swung my legs out of bed.

The house was so big for just me. Really, it had been too big for just Donald and me, but now that I was alone in his family’s house, the silence and emptiness was overwhelming. Donald had hired a housekeeper who came in every Tuesday and Friday to clean and prepare meals that could be reheated by us over the entire week, but when Donald had died, I had given her the week off.

After my shower, I dressed in old jeans and a navy T-shirt and padded barefoot to the kitchen to make coffee.