The first thing I saw was my husband’s name, printed in neat black letters at the top of a stack of legal papers.
Test Me
The second thing I saw was an envelope with my own name written across the front.
I was sitting on our bedroom floor in my pajamas, with my back against the bed and a black suitcase lying open in front of me. My hands were shaking so hard the papers rattled.
For two whole years, I had prayed every single night to see my husband’s face again.
Now my sight was finally coming back.
And the first clear thing I’d managed to read in two years was proof that he might be planning to leave me.
And the worst part?
Ashton didn’t even know I could see.
My name is Sutton Gray. I’m thirty-three years old, and I’ve been married to Ashton for eight years.
Two years ago, in November, I was driving home from my sister’s house in the rain. It was dark. The road was slick. A pickup truck coming the other way took a curve too fast, crossed the center line, and hit me almost head-on. 