When Love Runs Out of Coupons

I found an empty box in Ethan's study.

It should have held a stack of wish coupons that read: "Ethan promises to unconditionally fulfill one wish for Zara."

I made them by hand during our first year of marriage. He said he'd save them up, and we'd cash them in slowly when we were old.

Now, the box was empty.

He used the last one a week ago.

I saw it with my own eye. He handed that coupon to Blair, his voice gentle.

"Blair, ask for anything you want."

And I stood outside the hospital room, having just lost our second child.

My phone buzzed. A message from Ethan popped up.