“Did you pay the credit card?” I’d ask.
“I said I did, Meredith,” he’d snap. “Stop nagging.”
I told myself: trauma changes people. Facing death changes people. His whole life flipped. Give him time.
One night, I said, “You seem distant.”
And he drifted further.
He sighed.
“I almost died,” he said. “I’m trying to figure out who I am now. Can I just… have some space?”
Guilt punched me in the gut.
“Yeah,” I said. “Of course.”
So I backed off.
And he drifted further.
“Big deadline. Don’t wait up.”
The Friday everything exploded, I thought I was fixing it.
The kids were going to my mom’s for the weekend. Daniel had been “slammed at work.”
I texted him, “I have a surprise.”
He replied, “Big deadline. Don’t wait up. Maybe go out with friends.”
I rolled my eyes, but my brain started planning.
I cleaned the house. Showered. Put on the nice lingerie that had dust on it. Lit candles. Put on music. Ordered his favorite takeout.
I was gone for maybe 20 minutes.
At the last minute, I realized I’d forgotten dessert.
“Of course,” I muttered.
I blew out most of the candles, grabbed my purse, and ran to the bakery.
I was gone for maybe 20 minutes.
When I pulled back into the driveway, Daniel’s car was already there.
I smiled.
I walked up to the door and heard laughter inside.
“Great,” I thought. “He actually came home early.”
I walked up to the door and heard laughter inside.
A man’s laugh.
And a woman’s.
A very familiar woman’s.
Kara.
I opened the door.
My younger sister.
My brain tried to make it normal.
Maybe she dropped by.
Maybe they’re in the kitchen.
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