why, he repeated, “We’ve grown apart. We’ve become too different.”
Then I heard the click of the porch light behind him as he walked out.
***
Marcus moved into a rental across town within the week, but he still came by for mail, and for the pieces of a life he was carefully unstitching. Every time he did, I’d ask him again.
In the driveway or on the phone.
“Please, Marcus. Just tell me what happened. Was it me? Was it something I did?”
“Let it go, Eleanor. We’ve drifted apart
