More than two decades ago, she was mine. Then I lost her heart, but not her friendship. Now Tessa's husband, one of the greatest men I ever knew, is gone, having sacrificed his life for their daughter. And my wife is a cheating whore, but I won't let her run off into the sunset with her senator just yet. She still has a few more months to be a mother to our son before he graduates. But Tessa . . . I know her. She wants to show her grown children that she's okay--hell, she always pretended to be alright when she wasn't--that even after a devastating loss, life can go on. Watching her grieve silently was something I did in the past, but I won't do it again. Never again. Because I fear if I can't get her to truly grieve, we all might lose her. And I can't live in a world without Tessa. Contains mature themes.