“I need you to call Marcia,” I said. “Tell her you weren’t authorized to cancel anything.”

He nodded.

Then he called her from our kitchen table.

He explained that I’d never requested a cancellation and that all future decisions regarding the photo session should come directly from me.

He didn’t mention my pregnancy hormones.

He didn’t describe me as stressed or unreasonable.

When he finished, he put down the phone.

“I’m sorry, Anna.”

I believed he meant it.

But believing an apology wasn’t the same as being ready to live together again.

On Saturday morning, I put on the sage-green dress.

I was thirty-six weeks pregnant.

My belly had grown since the first time I’d tried it on, but the dress still fit beautifully.

I stood in front of the mirror for several minutes, adjusting the belt.

For a moment, I remembered seeing it advertised on Tara’s Marketplace page.