Yet something about the idea made my chest tight.

I liked the life we had built at the farmhouse.

I liked not being afraid of the night.

I liked having somebody laugh with me when Noah made an alarming noise that turned out to be an ordinary baby noise.

Beatrice suggested I could stay longer if I wanted, or return home gradually, spending one night at a time there before making a final decision.

I was touched by the idea that moving forward did not have to be a dramatic declaration.