I was glad to be home, but the apartment seemed small, empty, and terribly silent.
Of course, any residence, compared to the Ledbetters’, would be found lacking, would never measure up. But it wasn’t that.
I put my keys in the dish on the counter, paused at the fridge to look at the schedule. Jackson was on shift at the medical center until midnight. He’d sent me a text earlier to say he’d put in his notice. I sent him a text to say I’d put in mine.
Bully for us.
I ought to be happy, but I wasn’t.
I glanced around at the bits and pieces of life Jackson and I had collected over nine years. Video games, DVDs. A writing desk by the window. The rhododendron hanging by the door to the balcony that we’d bought at Walmart. A sofa. A love seat. Magazine subscriptions. A cast iron skillet. Elv
