I believed he wanted to erase every part of the life we’d built. Sell it, split it, scatter it. Like none of it had ever happened.
Still, I’d never expected this.
Never. Not in a million years.
Brian could be cold. He could be cruel with his words, especially in that last year. But he’d never broken anything. He’d never thrown things or punched things. He was the kind of man who got quieter when he was angry, not louder.
Ezoic
I didn’t know the man who’d done this.
Or maybe I did. Maybe I just hadn’t wanted to.
My father arrived before I finished documenting the damage.
I hadn’t called him.
Claire had.
I heard his old truck in the driveway, that rattle it makes when it idles. I heard the front door open. I heard his footsteps in the hall, slow and heavy.
