I THOUGHT PUTTING MY HUSBAND IN A NURSING HOME WAS THE ONLY CHOICE, UNTIL I FOUND WHAT HE’D BEEN KEEPING IN HIS NIGHTSTAND

The kind that remembers where you hide your fear.

The kind that leaves a letter behind a drawer—hidden carefully enough that you won’t find it too soon, but not so carefully that you’ll miss it when you finally need it.

David had always understood the difference.

And somehow, all these years later, he was still fixing things.