Not by the contracts I signed or the number in our bank account, but by whether the people beside me could rest, eat, speak, and feel safe.

She folded the page with care.

“You know what I remember from the hospital?”
I shook my head.

“You asked me what I wanted.

You didn’t tell me what we were going to do.

That was the first moment I thought things could change.”
I sat beside her.

“I wish it hadn’t taken so much pain for me to learn that.”
“I do too,” she said.

“But you learned.