Because you made the room easier to stand inside.
I wanted to know whether life had been kind to you.
I turned to the final pages of the journal.
Age 34.
I hope she knows ordinary kindness is never ordinary to the person who needs it.
Then came the last entry, dated three days after our wedding.
Age 35.
She did.
Below it, Carl had added one more sentence.
And so did I.
I hope she knows ordinary kindness is never ordinary to the person who needs it.
I blinked, but it only smeared the world into a wet watercolor.
I understood why Carl had proposed.
He chose not to reveal our history because he knew I would have said yes from guilt. He wanted my answer to remain free.
***
Autumn arrived six weeks later.
