“Let’s go.”

I climbed into the car.

For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel obliged to call someone and explain why I’d made a decision.

We drove away from the courthouse.

My son fell asleep.

And I let him.

EPILOGUE — 2:17 A.M.

The apartment never became beautiful.

Not in the way I’d once imagined our first family home would be.

The kitchen was small.