No. Danielle makes my real life work.
I read it twice.
Then I saw his next message.
What we have is separate. Don’t make it complicated.
My real life.
I was the real life.
I paid attention to the mortgage.
The groceries.
Insurance.
Appointments.
Schedules.
All the invisible work required to keep a household functioning.
Marcus disappeared every Thursday.
Then he returned home, dropped his keys on the counter, and I asked him how his day had gone.
I wasn’t his partner.
I was the infrastructure supporting his life.
I left the coffee shop shortly after seven.
Tessa stopped me near the door.
“For whatever it’s worth, none of us knew you were actually still together when we became involved with him.”
I looked at her.
“I believe you.”
I still didn’t know whether I could forgive them for what they had done to his car.
