PART 25
Later, after Ruth had gone home and Liam was asleep, Maya found me putting away the last dishes.

She held an envelope with my handwriting on it.

I had written it months earlier, when our new home was still only a possibility, and tucked it in the back of a kitchen drawer.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Something I meant to give you when we moved.

Then I worried it sounded like another promise.”
She opened it and read my short letter at the table.

I had written about the first time I saw Liam’s hand curl around my finger, about the mistakes I could not undo, and about how I wanted to measure a good life differently.