*I did not request you because I expected gratitude.*
*I wanted to know whether life had been kind to you.*
*Then you entered carrying vegetable soup, moved my laundry without making me feel weak, and argued that “qi” was an acceptable Scrabble word.*
*I knew. Not because you looked the same.*
*Because you made the room easier to stand inside.*
I turned toward the final pages of the journal.
*Age 34.*
*I hope she knows ordinary kindness is never ordinary to the person who needs it.*
Then came the final entry, dated three days after our wedding.
*Age 35.*
*She did.*
Beneath it, Carl had written one last sentence.
*And so did I.*
I blinked, but the world only blurred further.
Then I understood why Carl had proposed without telling me our shared history.
He knew that if he revealed everything, I might agree from guilt.
He wanted my answer to remain free.
