“Now I think I was protecting myself from being seen as someone who couldn’t solve it.”

I watched a leaf twist along the curb.

“You taught me to doubt whether I could live without you,” I said.

“I’m still working out how much of that you meant and how much we both allowed to happen.”

“I never wanted you to feel small.”

“I believe that you didn’t want it.

It happened anyway.”

We reached the corner and stopped.