Otto had said everything he needed to say.Gideon sat motionless for a long moment after he left. Then he leaned back in his chair and picked up the third glass of whiskey.He drank it slowly. The memories came without invitation, fragments of the life he and Lucille had shared over the years.Throughout their marriage, he had always carried himself with absolute authority. He was older, more experienced, more accomplished. He had always believed he knew better. He had cast himself as the man who instructed her, corrected her, shaped her, and offered affection as though it naturally belonged with everything else.When they had first met, she had been thin and angular, with her hair cut short. He had regarded her with faint condescension, indulging her as though she were someone who had not quite grown into herself.He had liked running his fingers through her hair. He had liked pulling her into his arms after one of his lectures had left her red-eyed, comforting her before drawing
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