Welcome! This week I'm writing another installment of a work-in-progress. Thanks for coming.
Dale stared at her son. “I don’t know what romance novels you’ve been reading, but Cliff doesn’t love me. He loves his wife.”
“But your picture…”
She waved her hand in the air. “A remnant. Probably didn’t even know it was still there. I bet the wallet is twenty years old. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I think you’re wrong.” He leaned against the railing on the stairs.
“Leave it alone, Joe. We’ve both moved on.” Dale started up the steps.
“I don’t think he’s moved on. And from the look on your face, you haven’t either. Was it all a sham with my father?”
“How can I explain? I loved your father. We had a good life, no, a great life together. And we created you. What could be better? You can’t change the past. Let it be.”
They walked into the house in silence. Joe made an excuse and left. Dale was relieved to be out from under his microscope.  
Yes, it’s in the past. I have to let it go. Can’t change it. Why don’t I take my own advice?  
At that moment, she made up her mind she’d return to New York City right away. I’ll finish cleaning out the house and sell it in the spring.
Don’t have to do that now. Who’ll buy it during the holidays anyway?
A sense of relief washed through her. You’re running away. So what? Why can’t I run away? Why should I torture myself over something that can never be changed? 
Dale picked up her cell phone. “Millie? Is there still room on that Christmas charity committee for one more volunteer? I’m coming home.”
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