I met Laura when I was twenty-three.
She worked at a coffee shop across from the dealership where I was a mechanic.
I started buying a large black coffee every morning even though I didn’t need it.
Mostly because I liked hearing her laugh.
Laura had one of those laughs that filled an entire room.
That was the first thing I loved about her.
It took me four months to ask her out.
She said yes before I finished the sentence.
We were together eleven years.
Married nine.
We had two boys.
Rick, quiet and precise, loved building model cars and refused to accept a crooked decal.
Noah was the opposite.
Loud.
Wild.
Always running.
And he laughed exactly like his mother.
For a long time, we were happy.
I still believe that.
