He had taken off his wedding ring.

He told me that quietly, without drama, as if naming a simple act might help him understand how much had changed.

I asked him whether he wanted breakfast.

He said he couldn’t eat.

I went over anyway with coffee and a bag of biscuits from the little diner by the highway.

Marcus opened the door.

He looked as tired as Brandon.

The two men had spent much of the night gathering belongings from the honeymoon suite, arranging for leftover food to be donated through the caterer, and reassuring out-of-town guests who didn’t know whether the brunch scheduled for the next day was still happening.