The Ghost Of Her Past

The last thing I remembered was a crushing weight in my chest, and the impossibly cruel words about my son not being mine.

Then, everything went black.

I thought I was dead, a broken man on my own lawn, betrayed by the wife I' d mourned for a decade.

But I opened my eyes to the scent of lilies and the familiar wooden pews of St. Michael's church. It was Nicole' s funeral, ten years ago, the very day she supposedly died.

My mother-in-law, Maria, was there, whispering an insane proposition: marry her younger daughter, Gabby, just on paper, for my baby son, A.J.