When Nancy blew up at me, she'd leave me stewing alone all night. Forgiveness only came after I apologized.I shut my eyes, throat tight, and saved both videos.Right as I was about to kill the screen, Finley called.I answered, and music slammed through the speaker.Finley yelled over it, "Jensen, a funeral for Nancy? Are you insane? Cancel it, or when she gets back, you're—"I hung up without saying a thing, grabbed a blanket, and crashed on the couch.Best sleep I'd had in three months.The next morning, I filed Nancy's death certificate.Then I headed to Finley's. His door was locked up tight, but after I leaned on the bell long enough, footsteps came.He opened up in a bathrobe, neck covered in fresh marks disappearing under the fabric."What are you doing here?" he asked, propping himself on the frame.I glanced from his neck to his smug face. "Nancy's funeral. Hope you'll show. You are her GOOD FRIEND, after all."Finley scoffed. "Jensen Johnston, you're her husband!
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