me with affection, then excitement, later worry, and ultimately dread. Now it meant nothing. I rejected the call, ignored a second, and switched the phone off when he tried a third time.
Upstairs, our bedroom was immaculate, exactly to Aaron’s specifications. The duvet lay flat; polished shoes formed neat rows beneath walnut shelving. Every watch occupied its own leather case, his shirts followed a color system, and suits were sorted by season and material. Once, in our first year, he’d objected to finding his charcoal cashmere jacket beside a lightweight
