He Had Seven Days To Love Her

It had been three years since my mother walked out on us.

In that time, my father, Arthur Hayes, had crawled his way out of crushing debt, flipped his fortunes, and bought a sprawling modern estate in the wealthiest zip code in Massachusetts.

In seven days, he was scheduled to marry Diane. Diane, who used a wheelchair. Diane, who had stayed.

And right in the middle of all this, a new housekeeper arrived.

My father was usually a master of boardroom politesse, extending a polished, detached courtesy to the staff. But with this new woman, he became someone I didn’t recognize. He was cruel.