He wanted a dinner party; I cooked.

He wanted his shirts ironed; I ironed.

He wanted to take credit for the household; I let him.

Now there were deeds and agreements that did not bend when he raised his voice.

I rented a small apartment near a park, with a narrow balcony and big windows facing west.

Paige helped me carry in a secondhand table.

We ate takeout noodles on the floor because I had not yet bought chairs.

“Does it feel empty?” she asked.