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He did not consider himself a superstitious man. But he was anxious, and his anxiety made him overly aware of every little detail out of place.
But it was so hard not to internalize, on some level, that if something was amiss in her life, it was because she had done something to deserve it. Or worse, because she secretly wanted it.
Both practices required him to sit still and surrender to the idea that life was not entirely in his control, and these were two things he avoided at all costs.
The instinct was an old one, carved into his bones: to clean up after David’s whirlwind personality broke things, especially when the thing that got broken was David himself.
“My momma calls these two the right and the left hand of God,” she said, guiding him through her rationale. “Salt protects what is within and pepper drives back what is outside. No pair more powerful under the sun.”
“If this is entrapment, I’ll happily let you put the manacles on my wrists and the collar around my neck,”
