“I know!” I’d say to the ghost of my ex-husband, who now only lives with me through stories. I still work hard to try to remember the best parts of him, to pepper in the good parts while I consider the worst ones. “It’s my own fault. I don’t have a right to you like this anymore, and she doesn’t have this right to me. I told her too much.” My ex-husband would agree. “It’s your own fault. You let them think they were in this life with us. Now I’m gone, and all you have are the secrets you could never keep to yourself.”
