It only got worse from there. I didn’t even realize how detached and numb to the pain I had become. Until yesterday, my twenty-sixth birthday. My husband slammed the door behind him as he headed out into the February snow and left me in the painful silence of our home. Without even saying “Happy Birthday.” That’s when I realized that no one even remembered what day it was. There was no phone call from Mom or Dad, and there wasn’t even a text from my brother. It was the first time in my life that Alan hadn’t called me on my birthday. That hurt more than anything Zack had ever said or done.
