SANTA MONICA: "Maybe it's time." (2)
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packed everything and left a few months later. I could still see Jamie standing at the door of the house he’d rented, shirtless, watching as I pulled the Jeep out of the driveway. “I’m sorry, Jamie. Really.”

He shook his head. “There was nothing we could do. It was nature.”

We sat, quiet for a few minutes.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” I asked him.

“What’s that?”

I looked down at my bare hands. “Remember that silver ring you bought me in Key West? The one I always wore on my thumb? I lost it somewhere in Chicago.”

He waved his hand, as if to tell me it really was no big deal. It was a 14-dollar ring I’d tried on at a shop off Caroline Street in Key West, and he’d quietly...

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