I did not sleep that night. I tossed and turned, thinking about my fight with Andrew. What he had said was unfair, but I understood that he was under a lot of pressure and probably didn’t mean any of it.
By the morning, I was miserable. I hadn’t completely forgiven Andrew for what he had said, but I felt bad for not being more understanding and for storming out on him. He didn’t have to snap at me, but I didn’t have to snap back.
I stared at the empty space in my bed where Andrew normally slept. It had been such a long time since I had slept alone that it felt strange to have this vacant dip in the mattress without him in it. I ran my hand over the space, wondering if I could still feel his warmth there.
It made me think about the riots and how Andrew
