Keith drove me to the station. He carried my bags, bought my ticket, and waited with me for the bus.
“Give Emily my love.”
I’d stay a while with our daughter while I looked for a place of my own nearby.
“I’ll tell her.”
The bus rolled, and I turned to find Keith through the window. Twenty-five years of marriage, I thought I should wave goodbye to the heartless bastard even if he felt nothing.
The brakes shrieked. Passengers screamed. My head hit the seat.
“A man,” a woman shouted. “He ran in front of the bus!”