PART 23: The Letter I Never Sent

Cleaning out the studio’s old storage cabinet, I found a notebook from the final months of my marriage.

Between paint swatches and client measurements was a letter I had written but never mailed.

It began, Nathaniel, I am tired of apologizing for wanting a life that includes me.

The pages described a dinner where I had presented an idea for converting empty office suites into short-term community clinics.

Nathaniel dismissed it in front of his father.