He called less often and when he did Tracy’s voice frequently appeared in the background reminding him about meetings or obligations that demanded his attention.
Whenever I tried to visit their home she greeted me politely but never warmly, and over time those polite barriers became walls that pushed me further away.
The final blow arrived one early morning when a state trooper called my phone and spoke with careful hesitation.
Gregory’s car had been involved in a devastating highway accident during a heavy storm outside the city, and by the time emergency crews arrived there was nothing left to save.
The words felt unreal when I first heard them yet the following weeks confirmed the truth through hospital forms, police reports, and endless condolences from people who barely knew him.
Two weeks later we gathered inside an elegant legal office on Madison Avenue in Chicago to hear the reading of Gregory’s will.
The room was filled with polished marble floors, dark wooden desks, and a tall window overlooking the city skyline where the late afternoon light made every surface gleam quietly.