For ten years I was his wife in every way except for one thing: our official marriage. When I asked for a signature, he laughed, “It’s just a piece of paper.” The next morning, his smile disappeared.

He left the fork.

And then he laughed.

I’ll never forget that laugh.

“Laura, are you serious?”

“Yes.

He shook his head.

“I will never marry you.”

I felt like I’d put myself in my face.

“Why?”

He leaned back in the chair and calmly replied: