Now he was gone and done with, and I just let it be. She only ever mentioned him again in passing and the nuisance the divorce paperwork had caused her.

“You could read the story of my love-life, or the miserable failings of it rather, through stacks and stacks of government stamped papers. Notary signed,” she said.

And to be honest with you, I don’t care too much to mention him ever again. But not including him in the first place  would be leaving out some bits that would make the story incomplete—like the stories in the bible preachers conveniently omit from their sermons when they don’t exactly matchup with what they’re trying to teach. You just know something’s off. So he’s here. And now he’s gone.