while Frank sorted through photographs.
His credit card debt was gradually decreasing.
He was still attending counseling.
Our financial accounts were transparent.
And for the first time in months, I felt that our household decisions were genuinely being made together.
Later, Nick asked whether I wanted him to carry the bags to the car.
“Please,” I said.
Such a simple question.
Such a simple answer.
And yet it represented something we’d nearly lost.
Respect.
Permission.
The understanding that one person’s belongings and choices didn’t automatically belong to everyone else.
When
