Five Years In An Empty Grave

Summary

The day my wife died in that fiery highway pileup, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills.

It was her best friend, Bridget, who kicked down my apartment door, eyes bloodshot and wild, dragging me back from the brink before my heart could stop.

"You have to live," she had sobbed, her fingers digging into my shoulders until they bruised. "Even if it’s just for Elise’s memory, you have to stay alive!"

For the next three years, the woman who had once clashed with me over every tiny detail softened every sharp edge she possessed.