That sheet of paper—Julian had read every word on it countless times, until his eyes ached and burned.

All at once, he grasped Francesca’s pain, Francesca’s tears.

Suddenly, he understood why that night, in the parking lot, she had screamed at him, her voice raw and broken: "Julian, why couldn’t you even spare me five minutes? Julian, are you still the man I used to know?"

His Fran couldn’t have children anymore.

He didn’t love ...