I saw Devin by accident in October.
I was coming out of a supplier meeting in Tribeca, the same neighborhood where we had first stood on a rooftop and I had told him my marriage was falling apart. He was standing on the opposite sidewalk looking at his phone, and when he looked up he saw me at the same moment I saw him.
We both stopped.
Then he crossed the street.
"Naomi," he said.
"Hi," I said.
He looked well. He had always looked well. He looked like a man who slept properly and ate regularly and did not waste energy on drama, which was still one of his most appealing qualities.
"How are you?" he asked.
"Good," I said. "Really good. You?"
"Also good."
A brief pause.
"How's Ava?" he asked.
"Fourteen months. She has a great deal to say about everything and none of it is yet a w
