in the eyes.
“If you loved me, you would never have let me believe my son stopped loving me.”
He reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
“Pack your things.”
“Liza.”
“Today.”
He looked around the room as if someone might come to his defense.
No one did.
After a long silence, he picked up the suitcase and went upstairs. The sounds of drawers opening and closing echoed continue reading …
