I nearly laughed. The shopping, cooking, cleaning, guest rooms, seating, and leftovers were apparently simple, because someone else handled them. “Will you help?”

I asked.

“Of course.”

His contribution was two bottles of wine and asking three times whether the turkey was big enough.

During those weeks, Daniel seemed unusually distracted. He carried his phone everywhere, even into the garage. He started exercising before work and bought shirts more expensive than anything he’d worn in our marriage.

Whenever I asked if something was wrong, he blamed work. “People depend on me,” he said. I never reminded him that people depended on me too. The farther he drifted, the harder I worked to make everything feel normal.