Knox

The rain has softened into a light drizzle by the time I pull into the garage of the high-end apartment building. 

The city skyline glimmers through the wet windows of my car, reflecting off the puddles on the concrete floor, but I barely notice the luxury surrounding me.

The sleek lines of polished stone and glass, the reserved parking spots for residents who pay more for silence than most people earn in a year, it’s all meaningless to me now.

Monica always knew how to spend money. I know she's materialistic.

After our divorce, she walked away with enough to live comfortably for the rest of her life. The...