I’d known Troy since we were five.
Our families lived next door to each other, so we grew up sharing the same sidewalks, the same neighborhood, and eventually the same dreams. We went to school together, got married young, and built what I thought was an ordinary life.
For thirty-six years, Troy was my husband.
We had two children, a daughter and a son. We bought a house, paid bills, celebrated birthdays, argued over little things, and learned how to forgive each other.
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