I heard that voice many times every day, and so although I enjoyed my studies and I loved living in California, there was always that voice holding me back. I had killed a child and I could never forget that.
I thought about Brian the day I got married. I thought about Brian the day my father died. I thought about Brian the day I defended my dissertation. I thought about Brian the day I started a new job. He lived with me.
I married in my early 30s. I told my husband that I'd had this accident but we never talked about it. He didn't ask and I didn't want to impose my pain on him - this was my issue to deal with and I didn't really feel I had the right to ask for comfort.
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