40

We swore that, if we were 40 and alone, we would marry each other and retire to Julian to raise horses and gorge on apple pie and sunshine. We were only joking, but I would have waited for you in a heartbeat. You used me and cheated on her and ruined them and never spoke to me again. Even when I said I hated you, I would have waited still. And now you're married to someone who doesn't care that you destroyed lives. I wonder what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night. Or what you told her to make it seem like our fault. What you told the church home to be welcomed back, the prodigal. You preached to me about His redemption. Swore to show me His light, but you damned me instead.