“Hi, Stephen. It’s…Amy.”
Pause. “Yes?”
“Can we talk?”
“No.”
Sometimes I think I remember what it was like, before.
Before I avoided mirrors.
Before I invested in soft fabrics.
Before I cut my hair short.
Contrary to what you might be thinking, I didn’t exactly run away from home. I’d told Dan this might happen. He probably didn’t believe me all those years when I brought it up at the dinner table or when we went to lunch with friends, but…well, I mean, he can’t complain that I didn’t mention it.
