A snippet

Then there’s the whole you’re-with-your-husband bit. The intimacy of sharing a glass of wine, a stroller, the child in it. The life that lies between the two of you, the home together, even the fights because they, too, are shared. You know how it feels to want that brand of intimacy. You want it for years before you ever meet Adam, feeling as though you’re pressing your nose against glass and looking in at a life you can’t even imagine inhabiting. You prefer inside to out. You prefer the intimacy to the solitude, even with its lack of control, its messy boundaries.