I remembered that winter. I'd come down with a high fever, a hundred and two degrees.
Two full days without eating a single thing.
"Robert, I really want some soup... Could you make me a bowl?"
He was watching a game. His brow creased when he heard me.
"I don't know how."
Eventually, he shrugged on his jacket with visible reluctance.
"I'll grab you something from the restaurant downstairs."
I waited forty minutes.
What came back was a cold bottle of milk and a burger, brought home by a man who'd already eaten his fill.
I'd wanted to cry so badly that night.
But later, I talked myself out of it.
Everyone has strengths and weaknesses.
I shouldn't expect too much from him.
Now I knew. It was never that he couldn't cook.
He just never wanted to cook for me.
The house sold. The car sold. Bank accounts closed.
Ten years of life compressed into a few boxes, a few documents, a few wire transfers, all within a single month.
I sorted through his things one by one and shipped every last item to him.
Three days later, Robert called.
"Virginia, the luggage arrived. When's your flight?"
He hadn't even noticed. Only his belongings had arrived. Nothing of mine.
I kept my voice flat.
"Three days."
His tone brightened with excitement.
"I'll pick you up at the airport. Just send me your departure time."
"Vivian's thrilled you're coming. She's been begging for your braised ribs. Honestly, I've been craving them too."
I said nothing.
I hadn't even arrived yet, and they'd already assigned me a job.
"Virginia? Did you hear me?"
"I heard you."
"Great, it's settled then. I'll pick you up, and we'll hit the grocery store together."
I didn't respond.
But he hung up anyway.
As if my agreement was a given.
Three days later, I stood in the departure hall of Boston International Airport.
Robert sent a voice message.
"Virginia, Vivian's in the hospital. Acute gastritis. I need to stay with her."
"Why don't you just grab a cab from the airport back to the apartment."
I didn't reply.
A few minutes later, he sent another message.
"Virginia, why aren't you answering? Things are really hectic here. I can't come pick you up."
I typed three words.
"Doesn't matter."
My reply seemed to sting him. He called immediately.
"Are you mad?"
"No."
"Your tone says otherwise."
"My tone's always like this."
He went quiet for a few seconds, then sighed.