Beating Betrayal
He looked down at his hands folded in his lap as his eyes filled with tears that he didn’t want me to see. One escaped and started its slow descent down his cheek. He brushed it away and told me that she had burned all of his childhood photos. Photos that were not from a digital decade, but from the early 70’s. Photos that could never be replicated. Photos that reflected his incremental progression in life. She thought there had been an affair. In a moment of squarely facing the deepest betrayal, her anger consumed her and fueled the fire
