That was essentially where we were at when Kit decided to go rogue: We were weighing all of our options. Together. So for him to unapologetically sign the lease behind my back, before we had mutually agreed on which path to take, infuriated me. And the fact that the communication-challenged Kit struggled to articulate why he would do such a hurtful, insensitive thing—beyond saying that he felt suffocated—only confirmed my worst fears: I was losing him. And to a fucking outer borough.
