4 SIX YEARS LATER
ATLAS
SATURDAY NIGHTS WERE MY FAVORITE. With Laurel gone, the house had taken on a different rhythm. It was quieter. Not as chaotic. And while I missed her every damn day, I wasn’t upset that being an empty-nester meant I could bend my wife over the island and fuck her at 2 p.m. on a Sunday if I wanted to. And I did. Frequently.