Chapter 4

I found an apartment. It was small. Barely three hundred square feet. A bed, a desk, and a window that let in almost no light. But it was quiet, and that was enough. 

No more doors opening after Midnight. No more of his back turned toward me in bed. No More “just go to sleep” like he couldn’t be bothered. 

The day I moved in, I took the wedding photo out of My suitcase. I wanted to throw it away. But I couldn’t. 

It wasn’t about holding on. I just didn’t know where to put it. The trash can was too small. 

So I propped it up in a corner and threw a cloth over it. Out of sight, out of mind. 

The next day, I went to see David. 

His office was on the sixty–seventh floor.