When Damien returns to the second floor, the guest room at the end of the hall is already dark.
Candice is asleep—or maybe she simply no longer wants to leave him even the smallest gap to see through.
He stands outside her door, fingers on the handle, unmoving for a few seconds. Then he lets go.
He remembers the first six months after their wedding, when Candice still slept in the master bedroom, her things tucked into the farthest corner of the closet, moving through the room like she was afraid of taking up space that didn't belong to her. She always slept on the very edge of the bed, back turned to him.
One stormy night she came to the study holding a pillow to her chest, eyes red. "Damien, I'm scared of the dark."
He hadn't looked up from his documents. "Then turn on the lights."
