The day of my father’s funeral, my “loyal” wife took my credit cards and flew her entire family to a 5-star resort in Bali, texting me: “Don’t be a killjoy, he’s already gone
“Marcus,” I said when my old friend answered. He was a high-stakes real estate developer who bought up oversized suburban lots to build luxury condo complexes. “David, hey man. I’m so sorry about Henry. I meant to be at the service, but—” “That offer you made for the lot last year,” I interrupted, my voice…