Seven years of marriage does something you can’t undo with a decree.

Her face was still home to me.

It had never stopped being home.

I just hadn’t let myself look at it straight-on in half a year, and looking at it now, I understood in one wordless rush how catastrophically I had lied to myself about being over her.

“Wesley?” It was barely a sound.

“What — what are you doing here?”

Chapter 9 — Made My Choice