A Good Marriage

by Kimberly McCreight

I was suddenly overwhelmed by this deep, tar-like anger. Stuck to everything.

I was good at burying things.

“Closing your eyes won’t stop the bad things from finding you.”

“Sometimes it can be easier to pretend something isn’t happening if you keep it to yourself.”

Park Slope is full of garbage cans.

Her eyes glinted across the room like those of a wartime queen prone to edicts and unexpected attacks.

And with that, she turned on a sharp lizard heel and click-clacked down the aisle and out of the courtroom.

Everyone’s got a history. Even here on Sesame Street.”

“You certainly look like someone who could use a little floral harmonizing.”

I’d been so foolish to think love could change the essential nature of anything.

And right now, all that quiet was making Amanda want to scream.

People didn’t just change because you wanted them to.

Anyone is capable of anything.

Why was everyone always so fucking drunk?

But sometimes it’s easier to stay married if you pretend.

Human connections were a good thing. They were the only thing that mattered.