One Hundred Forty Three Pages

Summary

I found my husband’s journal by accident. The latest entry was from yesterday:

“Another fight with her. Suddenly, I miss Maeve so much. If it were Maeve, she’d probably just laugh and say, ‘Let it go.’”

I flipped back a page.

“Passed by the bakery today. They discontinued the chestnut tarts Maeve loved. I felt this sudden, hollow ache.”

I kept flipping. Page three, page four, page five.

In the entire journal, her name—Maeve—appeared one hundred and forty-three times.

My name appeared eight times.

And five of those times, it was followed by the word again.