with him.
The last line was short.
I love you. And I did not do this just for me.
Coming Home to the Truth
I sat on the floor of that bedroom for a long time after I finished reading.
I had spent three months building a quiet case against my husband in my own mind. I had lain next to him at night and wondered what he was hiding. I had imagined scenarios that made my chest ache.
And all along, he had been building a school.
He had been carrying this enormous, generous thing inside him, and he had carried it alone because he was afraid of losing it before it was real.
When Michael came home two days later, I was calm. I had thought about what I wanted to say.
We sat together at the kitchen table. I placed his letter between us without a word.
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