“He was the perfect husband, until my 27th birthday. He took me into the storage closet of our tiny apartment. ‘Surprise!’ he said, pulling out a white envelope. I thought it would be a cute card. Inside I found cold, hard cash. Literally hundreds of dollars. ‘I saved it. For your new boobs!’ I felt rage overtake my body.”
“Mommy, what’s wrong?’ I held her face in my hands and brought her eyes to mine. ‘Baby, there was an accident. Daddy died this morning,’ I whispered to my 12-year-old daughter.”
“Bar stools go through windows. It works. That’s all we could do,” said Wennerstrom.