“No,” I say slowly, keeping my voice steady. “It’s going to be very, very different.” And, the truth I don’t tell him, the one dancing on my tongue: I think I’m becoming different, too. I can’t explain it, because I barely understand. I’ve always let the women in my life pass by me like I’m a boulder in a stream. They come and go, but I stay where I am. And I don’t think I meant to change this time. I only think I looked at India as she passed. Smiled when I saw her. Followed her with my eyes until she was leaving my line of sight. And now… Now she’s almost gone, and I can choose to stay where
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