On the evening she moved out, I came home to an almost empty bedroom.

Her books were gone from the nightstand.

The little collection of seed packets she kept in a kitchen drawer had disappeared.

In their place lay the house keys and a note.

I hope you someday understand that a family is not a transaction.

I put it in a drawer and told myself I had been generous.

Three months later, I moved Vivienne into the apartment.

She redecorated the living room in white and silver, replaced the old walnut dining table, and asked the staff to remove the garden boxes from the balcony.