Julian
Once the wedding memory settled, Helen and Julian began moving through the house like a couple again.
It happened in stages, but the stages came quickly. The careful stranger-distance of the first days after the hospital gave way to small, automatic gestures—Julian’s hand at the small of Helen’s back when they walked through a doorway, Helen adjusting the collar of his shirt without thinking, the two of them sharing quiet remarks in the kitchen that no longer sounded like polite negotiation. By the next afternoon they had decided to leave the house together for the first time since coming home.
“We’re going for a drive,” Helen announced, standing in the living room with her bag over her shoulder. “Not far. Just out. The doctor said short outings were fine if we didn’t overdo it.”
