The months after that taught me that pain doesn’t disappear. It just moves rooms. Some mornings I woke furious. Some empty. Some missing the most absurd things about him—the sound of his keys, his laugh at stupid commercials, his habit of slicing fruit for everyone but himself. Love does not vanish on the same day hatred appears. Sometimes they live side by side for a while.
Still, I began to rebuild. I painted again for the first time in years. Joined a photography class. Went on long walks alone. Bought earrings without asking myself whether Thomas would find them too much. Replaced the brown couch he adored with a deep blue one that changed the whole room. Emily kept limited contact with her father. Ryan cut him off entirely for months. And both of them struggled with Chloe’s existence, especially Emily, who once sat in my kitchen and said softly, “I have a fourteen-year-old sister,” as though she were trying to learn a new language.