The boys were asleep upstairs.
I couldn’t move.
“Laura, we have two children.”
“I know.”
Then she said Brent could give them things I never could.
A house on the lake.
Private schools.
Real vacations.
Not some inexpensive cabin without air conditioning.
“They like the cabin.”
“They’re children, Craig. They don’t know any better.”
Then she looked at me with something worse than anger.
Pity.
“You’re going nowhere in life.”
She told me I would spend the next twenty years repairing other people’s cars for ordinary wages.
That I would never make real money.
Never become anyone important.
Then she picked up her suitcase.
“I deserve more.”
