One afternoon, while we were folding small shirts, Megan asked, “Do you think Tiffany ever loved you?”

I took my time answering.

“I think she loved the life we represented.

I don’t know what she felt beyond that.

I also don’t think I loved the person she actually was.

I loved how easy she made it to avoid facing myself.”

Megan turned a shirt right side out.

“I used to think you would become different if I loved you hard enough.”