1 days before my wedding, dad called: “i’m not wal…

to the firehouse for his regular shifts, and I reopened the bindery. The smell of archival glue and raw leather welcomed me back. The rhythm of my normal life resumed, but the underlying anxiety that had defined my existence was gone.

My phone did not ring with frantic demands from my mother. There were no manipulative text messages from Alyssa attempting continue reading …