Winnie

The fundraiser is tonight, and I'm still in Columbus, Ohio.

Instead of dancing at some elegant party, I'm packing. I've ignored Rick's calls.

Suddenly, I feel this push-pull.

I want to go, but I don't.

I tape up a box of pictures.

Anger smolders within me like a fire under a thick blanket.

As I press my lips together, I tell myself not to look at the living room table.

I can’t afford the pull to grow stronger.

Rick’s ...