That’s when I catch Danny on my porch, sitting with his head hanging down on a bench he built for us. He carries a bouquet of flowers in his hands, dressed in all black. Tulips. Pink tulips dangle from his big hands. As I drive to park next to his truck, I swallow the rock in my throat. His betrayal weighs heavily on my spirit, and I don’t know what will pour out of my mouth when I walk out of this car.
