Phantom

September 16, 1944

Ever since I told Daisy about John, she has been sending letters more frequently throughout the months. She’s damn near interrogating me about John, and I’ve told her everything. How his gambling habits haven’t waned. His paychecks go entirely to catching us up on bills, and then we fall behind again. Left with little money for eating or buying ourselves basic necessities.

I also told her about that awful June night. Her response was written so angrily into the page that her pen tore through it in several spots. Some of her words were unintelligible, but I got the gist.

She was seething mad, and begged me to find a lawyer.

But what lawyer would see it as anything other than a marital duty? As John’s wife, my body is his.

Even so, I couldn’t bear to rip Sera away from her father.

She loves him dearly, and my husband treats her like royalty.

Once I responded with a letter explaining this, she understood my position, though she didn’t shy away from expressing her distaste for my husband.

In the end, it does not matter that I am the receiver of all John’s mistakes.

Because at least I have Ronaldo.

Wherever he is.