PREVIEW

... airs.

Each step feels like a war. My joints ache. My breath comes shorter than it used to. There was a time—God, not even so long ago—when I could carry my wife up three flights with ease.

Now?

Now the rail is my ally. I grip it tight, hauling my body up one slow stair at a time.

I remember when I said I wanted to grow old. Thought I was clever. Smug about it.

I may have overestimated myself.

Growing old sucks.

But I can’t leave her. Not ye ...

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