I told him I didn’t and let him explain.

That ordinary conversation felt like a reprieve.

Later, Claudia came over with dinner.

She had been my friend long before the marriage ended, and she was one of the few people who could sit in my living room without expecting me to turn pain into a dramatic story.

“What’s the hardest part?” she asked as we washed dishes.

“Thinking Evelyn watched us struggle while telling him we were fine.”