I hated how a decade could be compressed into documents, but the organization gave me room to think.

Our house became strangely quiet.

I had spent so many evenings waiting for Connor’s key in the lock that I kept hearing it even after he stopped coming.

Sometimes I still set out two coffee mugs before remembering.

I started taking Sunday mornings for myself.

I walked through the botanical garden, bought flowers without asking whether he liked them, and learned to make breakfast slowly.

I had built businesses, managed crises, and negotiated contracts worth millions; making a pancake for one person sometimes felt like the hardest task of the week.