care about Vanessa,” he said.
Margaret asked how much.
Daniel claimed he didn’t know.
Then he said Vanessa “understood” him in a way I apparently no longer did.
With me, everything had become schedules, bills, and responsibilities.
With Vanessa, he could breathe.
I sat frozen as the ordinary work of our marriage—the mortgage, dinners, appointments, responsibilities—became evidence that I had somehow failed him.
Margaret asked one question Daniel clearly had never asked himself.
“Does Emily get to breathe?”
When Daniel accused his mother of taking my side, Margaret told him
