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I came home from my trip and slid my key into the lock. It wouldn’t turn. I tried again. Nothing. I called my son. “Ryan… what’s going on?” He sighed. “Dad, this is for your own good. We sold the house.” Behind him, Diane nodded like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. “You’ll be better off, Walter.” I slowly sat down on the porch steps, looking at the door that used to be mine. Then I smiled… and texted my lawyer.

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of Patricia’s perfume that still clung to the furniture. It was almost as if she were still here, watching him, waiting for him to make the right decision.

But there was no time for nostalgia. There was no time to mourn the loss of what could have been.

Walter took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen. The coffee pot sat on the counter, still warm continue reading …

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