Chapter 21
"I know."
His voice broke on the last word.
That hurt.
I stood and carried the sailboat toward the box.
"Do you want it?" Adrian asked.
I paused.
"No."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
He smiled faintly.
"I don't want it either."
I looked at the ridiculous little thing.
"What do people do with objects from dead marriages?"
"I don't know."
"Goodwill?"
"Some innocent person buys it and ruins their marriage."
I laughed.
So did he.
The laughter was soft.
Unexpected.
Human.
For a minute, we were almost the people who once ate Thai food on the floor.
Almost.
Then his phone buzzed on the counter.
He glanced at it.
I noticed something before I could stop myself.
He did not turn it facedown.
A tiny detail.
Months earlier, it would have mattered enormously.
Now it mattered only as proof that he had learned something too late.
He saw me notice.
"Work."
"You don't have to explain."
"I know."
We packed for another hour.
Near the kitchen, I noticed a paper grocery bag on the counter.
Inside were green apples.
Fresh ones.
I looked at Adrian.
He followed my gaze.
His expression became embarrassed.
"I started buying them."
"You hated grocery shopping."
"I know."
"Do you even like green apples?"
He picked one up.
"No."
I laughed again.
"Then why?"
He rolled the apple between his hands.
"At first because it felt wrong when the bowl was empty."
My chest tightened.
He looked at the fruit.
"You always kept them there."
"I bought them for you."
"I know that now."
The sentence stayed between us.
I know that now.
There was our marriage in five words.
He knew now.
He knew the coffee filters did not replace themselves.
The holidays did not organize themselves.
His mother's birthday gift did not magically appear.
The green apples were not part of the architecture.
Care had a person attached to it.
And the person could leave.
Adrian placed the apple back in the bag.
"After you left, I let the first ones rot."
"I saw."
"You did?"
"The second time I came for my things."
He nodded slowly.
"I came home from work and smelled them."
He smiled without humor.
"Stupid thing to remember."
"No."
"I stood there looking at this rotten bowl of apples, and for some reason that was the first time I understood you weren't coming back to fix anything."
I swallowed.