“I thought losing him would be the worst part,” she said.

“It wasn’t?”

“The worst part is not knowing how to run a week without asking him to fix it.”

She looked toward the refrigerator, where a handwritten list held medical appointments, work shifts, and a reminder about the landlord.

“I keep wanting him to say he’ll handle Thursday.”

“Who handles Thursday now?”

“The transport office confirmed the appointment ride.

I changed the work shift.