The text that changed everything
“Are you home right now?” Jenna texted.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Why?”
Three dots appeared.
Then: “Pen… Eric is here. At Romano’s.”
Romano’s. Our place. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Back when we still tried.
“Who is he with?” I typed.
She sent a photo.
Eric leaned across a candlelit table, laughing — really laughing — his hand resting on a woman’s wrist like it belonged there.
I didn’t cry.
I stood up. Took off my gloves. Washed my hands.
“Kids,” I called calmly. “Dinner’s almost ready. Keep an eye on Gran.”
I drove to the restaurant but didn’t go inside.
The hostess stepped out and smiled. “Penelope? Usual table?”
“No,” I said softly. “I’m not with him.”
Through the window, I saw it clearly.
Eric was alive in a way he hadn’t been with me for years.
And in that moment, something inside me went quiet.
I finally knew exactly what to do.
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