“Sometimes I look at you,” he says, his voice low, “and I forget how quiet my life was before.” I cannot form a response, cannot find the version of me who would know how to. He speaks of a shared history as if it’s solid ground while I am trying not to fall through the cracks in my memory. How do you become the reason a man like this feels settled? What did I do to become the person who could fill a silence in Blair Callahan’s life?
