The office looked as though someone had started emptying it.
Two shelves were empty. Books were packed in boxes lined up along the wall. A photo of Olive and me was wrapped in paper, and the mug she had once painted for him was already packed away.
— Chelsea?
I turned around.
Ben stood in the doorway holding a cup of coffee.
First I looked at him, then at the boxes.
— You accepted a job in Oregon?
His expression changed.
— I was going to tell you everything!
— Chelsea, let me explain.
I picked up the lunch bag.
— I brought you your favorite sandwich and apple pie because I thought you were tired. And meanwhile, you were packing your office.
He put his coffee down.
— I haven’t finished packing yet.
— And that’s supposed to make me feel better, Ben?
— No.
— When were you going to tell Olive?
His lips tightened.
