Someone drove me to an appointment.

I kept the hospital numbers beside the couch rather than relying on my memory when I felt frightened.

People asked when Marcus was coming back.

I said, “He’s away.”

Sometimes I said, “On a trip.”

At first, I left out the cruise because the word felt too bright for what I was describing.

I did not want to see surprise become pity on another person’s face.

I did not want to explain why I had not persuaded him to stay, as though persuasion were a treatment I had failed to perform properly.