I was preparing breakfast.
Sunlight came through the window, illuminating the ordinary objects that had been part of our lives for years: the ceramic mugs, the fruit bowl, the calendar on the refrigerator.
Nothing about the room had changed.
Yet I no longer saw our marriage in quite the same way.
Eliam placed a cup beside me.
“Your favorite,” he said.
I smiled faintly.
“Thank you.”
He hesitated.
“Are we getting better?”
I considered the question.
“I think we’re learning how to be honest about things we’d rather avoid.”
He
