I wake at two-thirty in the morning. There was no dream, no earthquake, nothing to shock me awake and jolt me into consciousness.
The bedroom is quiet, the silence punctuated with Adam’s breath. Adam is my husband. We were married ten months ago. Billy Joel was our wedding song of choice, “Just the Way You Are.” We didn’t care that it wasn’t cool. We danced and grinned for photos.
But I couldn’t look at those photos.
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