He held my wrist as if letting go would destroy him.I removed his hand one finger at a time."Sorry."Damian shook his head."You're the last person who should be apologizing."So I moved out.My parents came twice a week.I hated the visits at first.They would wait outside until I finally opened the door.Then they would sit with me, eat with me, and try to talk.We never had much to say.Still, they stayed exactly two hours.Two hours was the longest I could tolerate.Damian sent money every month.He came after work every evening to have dinner with me.When it was time to sleep, he drove home alone.More than once, I watched his exhausted back and wondered why he kept doing this.He never stopped.He brought photo albums, crafts we'd made together, and souvenirs from old trips."Claire, I took this one when we went skiing."He turned a page."And this was our honeymoon."He smiled while telling me stories about a life I couldn't feel.To me, they were only
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