He never minded.
Until arthritis settled into his knees.
One morning I found him standing beside the garbage cans in the snow, unable to drag them down the driveway.
He was furious when I hired someone.
Not because he loved garbage.
Because he hated needing help.
People change.
Capabilities change.
Wants change.
Love is supposed to notice.
“I believe you,” I told Rebecca.
Her expression broke slightly.
“About the conversation?”
“Yes.”
Relief crossed her face, followed quickly by something else.
“But it doesn’t fix everything,” I added.
“I know.”
I reached into my handbag and removed the Saguaro Ridge brochure.
“I’m thinking about buying a place.”
Daniel stared at it.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to.”
“That isn’t the point.”
He picked up the brochure.
