Epilogue
SEVEN YEARS LATER
‘Baby, did you see the news?’ Otis is home early, announcing himself from the front door in his usual way: loudly, and as if we were already in the middle of a conversation.
‘Nope,’ I call back. ‘Come in here if you want to talk!’
He enters the bedroom, where I’m folding laundry. He pulls me into his arms and nuzzles my neck. ‘Really? You aren’t just saying that? Because I think we should talk about it.’
I shift back and scan his face. ‘Hon, I just got home. Today was insane at work. I may as well be living in a bubble.’
I secured a creative development job at a literary start-up several months after I gave birth, naming a wage I had thought astronomical. I’d been shocked when they readily agreed to my terms. I wasn’t used to valuing myself at a high level
