Emily wanted stories about Lee.<\/p>\n
Not documents.<\/p>\n
Stories.<\/p>\n
That distinction surprised Jeremy.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have boxes of Dad\u2019s stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't want stuff yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did he laugh at?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy stared at his phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid he sing in the car? Was he annoying? Did he hate vegetables? Normal things.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe hated tomatoes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat's useful.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe claimed ketchup didn't count.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCorrect.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou two would've gotten along.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSee? More.\u201d<\/p>\n
So Jeremy started giving her Lee.<\/p>\n
Not the man from the adoption records.<\/p>\n
His father.<\/p>\n
Lee snored loud enough to wake himself.<\/p>\n
He kept peppermints in the glove compartment.<\/p>\n
He refused to buy new work boots until the soles detached.<\/p>\n
He watched baseball with the television muted because commentators irritated him.<\/p>\n
He could rebuild an engine but could not operate the programmable thermostat.<\/p>\n
He sang badly.<\/p>\n
Only old country songs.<\/p>\n
He called every dog \u201cbuddy\u201d whether he knew the name or not.<\/p>\n
Emily collected these details with strange seriousness.<\/p>\n
A week later, she asked Jeremy to take her to Lee's grave.<\/p>\n
Thomas came too.<\/p>\n
So did I.<\/p>\n
Not because the moment needed four people.<\/p>\n
Because Emily asked.<\/p>\n
The cemetery sat on a gentle hill outside town.<\/p>\n
Cold wind moved through bare branches.<\/p>\n
Jeremy carried the kindergarten photograph Bennett had given him.<\/p>\n
Emily carried nothing.<\/p>\n
At Lee's headstone, she stood silently.<\/p>\n
LEE ROBERT TOLLEY.<\/p>\n
Beloved Husband and Father.<\/p>\n
Jeremy brushed leaves away.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe would've hated the word beloved.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe thought grave markers were dramatic.\u201d<\/p>\n
Thomas smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did he want?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cName. Dates. Maybe \u2018finally got some peace and quiet.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily laughed.<\/p>\n
The sound disappeared into the cold air.<\/p>\n
She crouched.<\/p>\n
Touched the stone.<\/p>\n
Then said, \u201cHi.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked away immediately.<\/p>\n
I did too.<\/p>\n
Some moments become smaller if watched too closely.<\/p>\n
Emily spoke softly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m Emily.\u201d<\/p>\n
No explanation needed.<\/p>\n
\u201cI found out you knew about me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wind moved her hair.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou should've told Jeremy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut thanks for trying.\u201d<\/p>\n
She placed the kindergarten photograph beneath a small stone at the base of the marker.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou kept this once.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy stared.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don't want it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt belongs here for now.\u201d<\/p>\n
Thomas asked, \u201cWon't rain ruin it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily shrugged.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen it ruins.\u201d<\/p>\n
That surprised me.<\/p>\n
We had all become obsessed with preserving evidence.<\/p>\n
Emily understood something we did not.<\/p>\n
Not every object had to survive forever.<\/p>\n
The truth had already done its job.<\/p>\n
On the drive back, she asked Thomas what Rebecca liked to eat.<\/p>\n
He laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEqual opportunity dead-parent research.\u201d<\/p>\n
The humor was sharp.<\/p>\n
Healthy.<\/p>\n
Thomas told her Rebecca loved lemon pie.<\/p>\n
Hated mushrooms.<\/p>\n
Could not sleep without a fan.<\/p>\n
Talked during movies even though she hated when other people talked during movies.<\/p>\n
Emily groaned.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe did.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy listened without tension.<\/p>\n
Thomas told a story about Rebecca locking herself out of the house in pajamas.<\/p>\n
Emily laughed.<\/p>\n
Then she asked me, \u201cWhat about Evelyn?\u201d<\/p>\n
The car went quiet.<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy Jill?\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily shrugged.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe knew her as an adult.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was true.<\/p>\n
Jeremy knew his mother as mother.<\/p>\n
I had known her as a woman who became family.<\/p>\n
I thought.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe overcooked green beans.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe carried tissues in every purse.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAlso yes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe could tell when I was pretending not to be upset.\u201d<\/p>\n
His smile faded.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was very good at that.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily looked out the window.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you love her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Immediate.<\/p>\n
Even now.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you hate her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
I thought again.<\/p>\n
\u201cI hate some things she did.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat makes sense.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked toward me.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you forgive her?\u201d<\/p>\n
That question was harder.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't know.\u201d<\/p>\n
He waited.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't think dead people require decisions on our schedule.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily turned.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat's annoying.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I want answers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you forgive Rebecca?\u201d<\/p>\n
The question was meant for Thomas.<\/p>\n
He stared through the windshield.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily went still.<\/p>\n
Thomas continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes that mean you love her less?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
There.<\/p>\n
Another truth.<\/p>\n
Forgiveness and love were not the same action.<\/p>\n
That thought followed me for days.<\/p>\n
Because I had told Jeremy I forgave him.<\/p>\n
I meant it.<\/p>\n
But what did forgiveness actually require?<\/p>\n
Did it require trust?<\/p>\n
No.<\/p>\n
Did it require forgetting?<\/p>\n
No.<\/p>\n
Did it require staying married?<\/p>\n
No.<\/p>\n
Did it require never becoming angry again?<\/p>\n
Certainly not.<\/p>\n
Then what was it?<\/p>\n
I did not have a clean definition.<\/p>\n
That bothered me.<\/p>\n
I wanted certainty because certainty felt like control.<\/p>\n
Maybe that was the family disease nobody had tested for.<\/p>\n
The following Tuesday, Jeremy came home at five thirty.<\/p>\n
No late hospital.<\/p>\n
No unexplained Nashville trip.<\/p>\n
He carried groceries.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou're staring at me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt's Tuesday.\u201d<\/p>\n
His face changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n
We had not discussed Tuesdays.<\/p>\n
Not directly.<\/p>\n
For three years, that day held a pattern.<\/p>\n
Now the pattern was gone.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you want me to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTell you where I was?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
He set the bag down.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n
I watched him unpack vegetables.<\/p>\n
Then I said, \u201cActually, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was at the shop.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI want you to tell me something else.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy Tuesdays?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy closed the refrigerator.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did you always go to Lacey on Tuesdays?\u201d<\/p>\n
Understanding crossed his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n
He leaned against the counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cChemo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHer main treatment day was Tuesday.\u201d<\/p>\n
That simple.<\/p>\n
Medical scheduling.<\/p>\n
Nothing symbolic.<\/p>\n
I had spent weeks turning Tuesdays into an emblem of betrayal.<\/p>\n
For Jeremy, they began as infusion appointments.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did you stay so late?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTreatment ran long. Sometimes she got sick afterward.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you eat together?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHospital. Diner. Her apartment later.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow often were you alone there?\u201d<\/p>\n
He understood the real question.<\/p>\n
\u201cA lot.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you ever kiss her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWant to?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy did not answer immediately.<\/p>\n
Good.<\/p>\n
I wanted truth, not reassurance.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEarly.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow early?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFirst few months.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAfter you started visiting.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she want to?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think so.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you talk about it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOnce.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
\u201cI said if we crossed that line, I'd have to tell you or become somebody I didn't want to be.\u201d<\/p>\n
The irony almost made me laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were already lying to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut physical cheating was the line.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIn my head then.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s convenient.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did Lacey say?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe said kissing me would make things worse.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was right.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you ever touch her romantically?\u201d<\/p>\n
He thought carefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cHeld her. Held her hand.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnything you wouldn't have done if I were in the room?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy's face changed.<\/p>\n
That was the better question.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes she'd fall asleep against me.\u201d<\/p>\n
My chest tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cOn the couch?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you let her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWould you have done that in front of me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
There.<\/p>\n
Emotional betrayal had physical shapes even without sex.<\/p>\n
I appreciated that he did not hide behind technical innocence.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat else?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI kissed her forehead.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow often?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWould you have done that in front of me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked miserable.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you want every detail?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He swallowed.<\/p>\n
\u201cOne time she kissed my cheek.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHer apartment.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI left.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I wanted to kiss her back.\u201d<\/p>\n
That hurt.<\/p>\n
Not unexpectedly.<\/p>\n
Still.<\/p>\n
I sat with it.<\/p>\n
Jeremy did not approach.<\/p>\n
Good.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you do afterward?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDrove around for an hour.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCame home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTo me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid I ask what was wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat I was tired.\u201d<\/p>\n
I remembered.<\/p>\n
There had been so many tired nights.<\/p>\n
Maybe not that exact one.<\/p>\n
They blurred.<\/p>\n
\u201cI hate that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened after?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn't go to her apartment alone for about a month.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen you started again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen she got worse.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
The facts did not change what happened.<\/p>\n
But I needed them.<\/p>\n
Not because I enjoyed pain.<\/p>\n
Because trust cannot rebuild around blank spaces.<\/p>\n
Jeremy asked, \u201cDo you wish you hadn't asked?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEven though it hurt?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause now Tuesday means something real instead of whatever my brain invents.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
That was the difference.<\/p>\n
Truth did not always comfort.<\/p>\n
Sometimes it simply replaced imagination.<\/p>\n
And imagination had become dangerous.<\/p>\n
I asked one more question.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf Lacey hadn't been sick, would you have gone back to her?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy took a long time.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't think so.\u201d<\/p>\n
Not certainty.<\/p>\n
Good.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think part of why it became intense was because she was dying.\u201d<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
\u201cEverything felt final.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOld feelings become dramatic when you think you have one chance to deal with them.\u201d<\/p>\n
That sounded true.<\/p>\n
He continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf she had been healthy and moved back to town, I would've avoided her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause you didn't love her?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
He met my eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I knew there was still enough feeling to be dangerous.\u201d<\/p>\n
I exhaled.<\/p>\n
That might have been the hardest truth yet.<\/p>\n
Not that he chose Lacey.<\/p>\n
He didn't.<\/p>\n
That he had been capable of wanting two lives at once.<\/p>\n
Most people probably are, at some point.<\/p>\n
We simply prefer our spouses not to admit it.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked confused.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTelling me.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
Then I asked the question I had been carrying.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you forgive me?\u201d<\/p>\n
His expression changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor shutting you down before our wedding.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJill.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI wrote the letter, yes. But before that, I told you I didn't want to know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were twenty.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo were you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sat opposite me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't blame you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat isn't the same.\u201d<\/p>\n
He understood.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou want forgiveness for something I don't think was yours to carry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I want us to stop pretending you were the only person who was afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked at me for a long moment.<\/p>\n
Then he said, \u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n
He took my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cI forgive you for making Lacey hard to talk about.\u201d<\/p>\n
I swallowed.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI forgive you for believing winning me mattered.\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat sounds arrogant.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt does.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTry again.\u201d<\/p>\n
He laughed.<\/p>\n
Then became serious.<\/p>\n
\u201cI forgive you for being young and scared.\u201d<\/p>\n
My eyes filled.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd I forgive you for every time after that when jealousy made honesty harder.\u201d<\/p>\n
There.<\/p>\n
That was mine.<\/p>\n
Not equal to his lies.<\/p>\n
Not responsible for them.<\/p>\n
Mine.<\/p>\n
I squeezed his hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy asked, \u201cDoes that fix anything?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy good?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I don't trust fixes anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
Neither did I.<\/p>\n
Maybe repair was the wrong metaphor.<\/p>\n
You do not restore a marriage to factory settings after twenty-two years.<\/p>\n
You learn the damage.<\/p>\n
Decide what still functions.<\/p>\n
Replace what should have been stronger.<\/p>\n
And accept the marks left behind.<\/p>\n
That evening, Emily came over carrying takeout.<\/p>\n
Thomas arrived unexpectedly ten minutes later.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy are you here?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou left your medication.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked guilty.<\/p>\n
Jeremy pointed.<\/p>\n
\u201cAha.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon't.\u201d<\/p>\n
Thomas handed her the bottle.<\/p>\n
Jeremy looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWant dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n
Thomas hesitated.<\/p>\n
Then stayed.<\/p>\n
It was the first meal the four of us shared in our house.<\/p>\n
No hospital.<\/p>\n
No lawyers.<\/p>\n
No files.<\/p>\n
Emily complained about work.<\/p>\n
Thomas complained about traffic.<\/p>\n
Jeremy burned garlic bread.<\/p>\n
I told him it was his one job.<\/p>\n
He blamed the oven.<\/p>\n
The oven had been working for eleven years.<\/p>\n
After dinner, Emily found an old photograph on our refrigerator.<\/p>\n
Jeremy and me at twenty-one.<\/p>\n
Newly married.<\/p>\n
Cheap apartment.<\/p>\n
Secondhand table.<\/p>\n
Happy.<\/p>\n
She stared.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou guys were babies.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe felt ancient,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Jeremy stood beside her.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was before\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
He stopped.<\/p>\n
Before we learned.<\/p>\n
Before Emily.<\/p>\n
Before everything.<\/p>\n
Emily looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon't do that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTurn every old picture into a clue.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jeremy smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cRight.\u201d<\/p>\n
She put the photograph back.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was just your life.\u201d<\/p>\n
Yes.<\/p>\n
Not a false life.<\/p>\n
Not a waiting room.<\/p>\n
Our life.<\/p>\n
Then Emily looked at another photograph.<\/p>\n
Evelyn at Christmas.<\/p>\n
She touched the magnet holding it.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan this stay?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at Jeremy.<\/p>\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n
The woman in the photograph had harmed us.<\/p>\n
Loved us.<\/p>\n
Fed us.<\/p>\n
Lied to us.<\/p>\n
Helped shape our marriage.<\/p>\n
Helped steal Jeremy\u2019s child.<\/p>\n
No single label could contain her.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Emily nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n
She did not ask why.<\/p>\n
Maybe because she understood.<\/p>\n
Remembering someone does not require approving of them.<\/p>\n
And forgiveness, I was beginning to learn, did not require making the past smaller than it was.<\/p>\n
Emily wanted stories about Lee. Not documents. Stories. That distinction surprised Jeremy. \u201cI have boxes of Dad\u2019s stuff.\u201d \u201cI don't want stuff yet.\u201d \u201cWhat do you want?\u201d \u201cWhat did he … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":7508,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7591","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-feel-every-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7591","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7591"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7591\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7653,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7591\/revisions\/7653"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/7508"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7591"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7591"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feeleverystory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7591"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}