Without hesitation, she raises the ax and lets it fly. My knees, already on the verge of giving way, fold like wet cardboard and I collapse to the dirt as the ax whistles over my head into the canyon. That’s when I remember the force field. And what happens to dropped objects. I watch, breathless, for what the love of my life would call poetic justice.
Why do I still feel shocked that he won I’ve known for 17 years
