him. One evening, he held my hand and admitted he had believed this part of his life was over. So had I.
The night before my flight, I brought pie to his rental without calling. His door was open, and I overheard him on the balcony. He said I could not know the truth, what Matt had made him do, or how we were connected. I dropped the box and demanded to know how he knew my husband’s name.
Henry had met Matt through a cardiac rehabilitation walking group. They became friends, and Matt helped him reconnect with his estranged daughter Rachel by writing a simple note asking to know her now without relitigating the past. Henry believed my husband had given him his daughter back.
Before Matt died, he worried I would disappear into everyone else’s life and confuse loneliness with loyalty. He told Henry that if an opportunity
