He found a moving service, checked the condo repairs, and handled the final details without asking me to manage his mother’s feelings.

I visited the house once with Naomi while Lucas was at work.

Paisley’s nursery still looked beautiful.

The curtains moved gently in the afternoon breeze.

I stood there for a long time, remembering how carefully we had chosen each picture and blanket.

It would have been easy to decide that because the room was lovely, I should come back.

Instead I asked myself the harder question: where would I feel free to rest, speak, and make decisions without waiting for someone else’s approval?

When Lucas and I discussed selling the house, he looked devastated.