The minute Marisol left, David ran upstairs and started to go through his closet. The clothes that were still there were ones that he had either left in Florida for warm weather, or ones he had forgotten over the years. Most of the clothes were old, and he probably needed to donate them to charity like he had his parents’ clothes, but there were a few pieces there that he loved, things that took him back to when he was younger, edgier.
He pulled out a black button-up shirt. It was silk, and he remembered his mother had bought it for him years ago. Whether in furniture or clothing, she had always had a knack for finding things that were timeless and seemed to never go out of style. He threw the shirt on the bed and then inspected the carry-on bag he brought. He pulled out a clean pair of j
