We grew apart the night you didn’t come home. I cooked a turkey and gathered eggs. You drank too much at the Bridge City Pub. By the way, I knew about your affair.
“Let's write our bucket list,” you announced one day. Then told me I was stupid, rolling your eyes. I decided on skydiving and purchased life insurance (just in case). I need to make sure I pack her parachute myself, he thought, wondering when he’d hatch his plan.