This house… you bought it for me ten years ago today.

I️ never knew I️ even could, but you were the first person I️ trusted completely.

The first man I️ felt like… like I️ could just be with.

It wasn’t much bigger than our apartment.

But it was ours.

We were happy.

Remember when we painted the kitchen?

Right after we moved in.

I️ always laugh when I️ think about it. Even now. We were so happy, intoxicated on each other… you looked so cute in your flannel shirt and ripped jeans.

You told me you loved the way I tied my hair up, scooped me into your arms, and wiped green paint on my nose with your little finger... I felt so content.

Like we always did.

You have a particular scent. Did you know that? So many things remind me of you. Cedar, apple cider, peppermints… just you.

I️ can’t even drink green tea without remembering the taste of your lips against my neck. That little tickle of your beard against my skin.

God… no matter how strong you looked on the outside, you were always tender with me.

A year came and went, and there I️ sat… in Teddy’s room. You named him after your cousin. My poor ankles were so swollen from the extra weight.

You told me I️ was just as beautiful as ever, even moreso. You couldn’t keep your hands off me.

But, I️ didn’t feel myself. “Every baby’s different,” mom said. And she was right. I️ was so sick the third trimester because of my stupid aversions.

Then Lizzy drove up to sit with me while I️ was on bed rest so you could work on the nursery.

You always worked so hard for me.

We’d probably sit in the bed, like we always did, and laugh about it now.

I️ labored for 20 hours. But I’d do it all again. He was worth it. You were worth it.

If only to see the way you hoisted our son in your big hands and cradled him against your warm chest for the first time.

There was no one else I️ wanted to be father to my son.

I️ never loved you so much as I️ did then.

You reminded me of my dad, before he passed. I️ wished so much that dad could be with us to meet his first grandchild. He would’ve spoiled him rotten, like he did with me.

Mom’s mind, as fragile as she was, meant she wouldn’t remember the first time she held Teddy. But I️ know she’d have done the same.

You were so lucky, Riley… to still have your parents.

These photos scattered on the floor. All showing the beautiful family we made together. When Taylor came you told her, “You might be the second prettiest girl in the world besides your mama,” always with a wink my way.

That’s what you were like, so playful, so joyful. You never missed a chance for a joke.

You always had a better sense of humor than me.

We laughed so much together, until my face ached and my cheeks were sore.

I️ think that’s how I️ knew.

Good things, they don’t stay long for me.

Lizzy always said I️ was a downer growing up.

I️ never meant to be. Friends just never came easy.

But it was always easy with you. You made me a brighter person.

But then again… the laughing has stopped.

I️ never blamed you, you know, when the shop closed.

I️ thought we’d been through so much together. We’d always have each other.

The kids could tell something was wrong, but I️ tried to keep things steady at home… for them… and you. If I️ could pray to God for anything, I’d pray to be enough for you.

But he doesn’t seem to listen much these days.

I️ think you lost a sense of yourself.

Your purpose.

I️ thought you’d worked so hard to be the best you could, and then it’s like you lost it all for nothing.

Maybe… maybe that’s why you stopped making me laugh.

It’s hard for a woman to think much of a man who doesn’t think much of himself. But I️ would’ve stood by you. Of course I️ would. I️ love you.

Then, one day, Taylor’s preschool called.

You’d missed her pick-up.

That wasn’t like you, that was never like you.

I️ burned a hole in the pavement trying to get there and back home before Teddy got off the bus.

You wouldn’t pick up your phone. I️’d thought you were out looking for work.

That’s why I️ stayed home all day, cleaning the dishes, mopping, folding laundry, vacuuming, being the PERFECT wife for you.

YOU WOULDN’T ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE!!!

WHAT THE HELL, RILEY?!

The kids worried. I️ told them daddy had a meeting but would be there in the morning.

8 o’clock

9 o’clock

10 o’clock

11

12

1

2

I️ hear a knock at the door.

I️ practically leapt from the sofa to unlatch it.

Who are these men?

Why are the police at my door???

Where THE HELL are you?!?

…

They said you must’ve been doing 80-90 when you hit the guardrail.

They’d found bottles in the floorboards. Possibly heroin.

But they don’t know for sure.

At least… from what they salvaged.

The funny looking one with the black whiskers said they couldn’t even ID you at first. They dug in the smoking twisting metal and found what was left of your wallet between the seats.

You know how I️ hated you putting it on the console…

Who were you, Riley?

I’d spent 12 years with you, and now… I️ don’t know who… what you were.

The news reports started.

One claimed it was a cartel hit.

The local stations said you were some distributor of… dealer… dear God I️ can’t even think straight…

I️ can’t even say it.

The things they said you did… to innocent people? With families and children??

You were always so tender with me. Such a hard worker. So playful and fun. You were my person…

Was I️ ever that for you?

My sister won’t even talk to me anymore… did you know that?

No, of course you don’t.

I️ sent the kids to Flagstaff with your mom.

They’ll be fine.

I’ve been a shell of a mother for weeks anyway.

They deserve a better example than me.

Somewhere no one will know their last name.

But me and you? We’re from here.

This was our house, remember Riley?

And now… I’m burning it to the ground.