Diane told me. Go on the cruise. Please. I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore.”
“Sweetheart, I’m fine.”
“You’re not. And that’s okay. But go.”
So I packed. I folded sweaters I hadn’t worn in years and tucked away the questions I couldn’t stop asking.
***
At the terminal, I stood at the gangway and made myself a quiet promise.
No more why. No more Marcus. Seven days of just being Eleanor again, whoever that was.
I didn’t know then that the answer I’d stopped chasing was already on
