he could make me laugh.
But the sign wasn’t funny.
“Why marriage?”
But the sign wasn’t funny.
His eyes dropped to his coffee.
“I don’t want to die belonging to nobody.”
“You don’t.”
“That’s nice to say, Sarah. It’s different on a form.”
He explained that without legal family, strangers would eventually handle his remains.
“It’s different on a form.”
“I just want somebody who can say, ‘He’s mine. I’ll take him.’”
I was single.
He was dying.
And I had always been better at solving problems than walking away
