I close my eyes. Force the thoughts away. Others rise to the surface instead, like my mind can’t handle the vacuum, and each of them is more impossible than the last. Isabel living here. Sleeping beside me every night. Me helping her with her career, listening to her recount her days, making her laugh. She’s amazing when she laughs. I love the way her mind works. What would it be like, to marry again? To be her husband?
