Everywhere in our apartment are plants, thriving. This, too, infuriates me—and when Liam instructs me not to come home that night, when he tells me to come by the next day, while he’s at work, and remove all my shit and never come home again, I think of those plants, of a space in the world without them. But the truth is there was a time when we both believed in the sunny rehabilitative force of his goodness.
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