I could still remember being loved by him.

I simply no longer knew what those memories meant.

“No,” I said.

“We are not okay.”

I went to Laura’s that night.

I took only the documents I was entitled to carry, two changes of clothes, and my mother’s recipe book.

The house would still be there the next day.

For the first time in months, I slept without listening for footsteps on the stairs.