The late nights that were about the acquisition.

The coldness that was about stress.

The birthday he missed that was about a client.

Every one of those had been a small it isn’t what it looks like, and every time, I had obliged — had taken the raw, plain evidence of my own life and gently talked myself out of believing it, because believing it was frightening and disbelieving it let me stay.

Selina’s version was only the last and most literal one in a long series.