Our Sixth Anniversary Was My Goodbye

On my thirtieth birthday, our car crashed on the way home from a charity gala.

Damian Moretti stepped over me—his girlfriend of six years, lying there with a fractured ankle—and carried Sofia DeLuca away because the cut on her palm had made her panic.

He knew I was hurt worse. He chose her anyway.

It was punishment for asking whether the two of them were getting too close.

That night, while I sat alone in the ER, Sofia posted a photo with her face pressed against his shoulder.

[Thank you to the man who always catches me when I fall.]