I turned. “Mary?”
He nodded. “Filed for divorce three months ago. Took everything. The car, the money, the furniture.”
I sat down across from him at the table.
“She’s living with someone else now,” he added, his voice cracking. “I tried to hold it together for the kids. I kept working overtime, tried to pick up extra shifts, but I couldn’t make it work. We’ve been sleeping in my friend’s basement for two weeks. I didn’t know where else to go.”
I studied him, really looked at him for the first time in years. I saw the pain in his eyes, but more than that — I saw regret.
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