There is a kind of man who cannot imagine that what he throws away might have a life of its own.

Luke was that kind of man.

And the woman he threw away read the hard drive he threw away, and between the two of us, we buried him.

I watched the whole architecture of his contempt for me collapse behind his eyes, as he realized that the woman he’d dismissed as a discarded footnote had spent the six months he’d spent gloating quietly dismantling him — that the entire time he’d been laughing at me, I had been reading his hard drive.

Chapter 12 — My Quiet Nature