My husband arrived at my door with my cousin, two babies, and a smug grin, declaring, ‘She lives here now.’ I handed him the keys, smiled back, and said “HOPE YOU ENJOY THE HOUSE UNTIL TOMORROW”

like loss, and another that feels like space being returned to you. This was the second kind. The air didn’t carry tension anymore. No anticipation. No low, constant awareness that something wasn’t right.

Just stillness.

For the first time in months, I slept without waking up in the middle of the night trying to remember what I had missed.

Michael disappeared continue reading …