I was simply going to walk into my own home, in my own clothes, and exist, visibly, in the space where Brenda intended to pretend I did not.

My entire strategy was presence.

In a way it was the same strategy that had defined the whole ordeal, only reversed: for years my presence had been taken for granted and my labor extracted, while Liam’s mere presence was treated as a gift; now I would simply be present, contributing nothing, cooking nothing, performing nothing, and let my quiet undeniable there-ness do all the work.

The lie required my absence.