After My Husband’s Funeral I Stayed Silent On The …

August. The leaves outside were still green, impossibly green, and Michael was the color of old paper.

Promise me, Ashley. Not until you’re ready. Not until you’re safe. Safe from what?

I asked. He looked at me, and in his eyes, I saw something I’d never seen before. Fear. Not of dying.

Of what would happen to me after. “Promise me,” he whispered. “I continue reading …