I slept on Camille's couch and woke to the sound of her making tea.
The house felt different without Evelyn. It still held her things, but the rooms seemed to be waiting for her. Camille handed me a mug and sat in the armchair across from the couch.
"Did you sleep?" she asked.
"Some."
"Did you talk to Owen?"
"We canceled the wedding."
She nodded slowly.
"I thought I'd feel more certain," I said. "I thought ending it would make me feel relieved or devastated. Instead, I feel all of it, sometimes in the same minute."
"That sounds familiar."
"Do you feel that way about your mother?"
"Sometimes. I miss her. I'm angry at her for not telling me she was sick. I'm relieved she isn't suffering. Then I feel guilty for being relieved."
"You don't have to feel one thing at a time."
"I know
