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Microfiction: Roulette

I promised her I wouldn’t cry on our wedding night, so it was funny when I did. Same went for the night Charlie was born. Then Samantha. Soon I was hopeless—any graduation and every Christmas morning. She made it a running joke and brought it up at family picnics or driving the kids to school; I’d just shake my head and smile and hold back tears. Then we learned Sammy had overdosed and was in intensive care. She asked if I was going to cry, she wanted me to. I just looked at her, eyes dry like a cruel summer.