A Father's Grief and Divorce

It was Ethan's sixth birthday, and we – my wife, son, and I – were at Six Flags. Midway through the day, Sarah, my wife, took a call, tricked Ethan and me onto the Ferris wheel, and then vanished.

270 feet in the air, Ethan had an episode. He'd inherited Sarah's heart condition. She carried the medication he needed. I frantically called her. No answer. Then, her phone went straight to voicemail.

Later that night, I finally got through. A man's voice answered. "Sarah's had a bit too much to drink," he slurred. "She asked me to tell you that if it weren't for Ethan, she'd have divorced you a long time ago."