She had been right.
I did like being needed.
I just had never considered what that dependence might cost both of us.
The next day, Northcrest Solutions disappeared from my routine.
That was harder than I expected.
At 6:45, I almost picked up my keys.
At 7:10, I remembered there was nowhere to drive.
I opened my laptop instead.
Updated my résumé.
Called recruiters.
Sent applications.
By ten, I had three conversations scheduled.
That should have made me feel better.
It didn’t.
Because the house itself kept showing me how much of Marissa’s life I had quietly managed.
Her car registration renewal sat in my calendar.
The HVAC maintenance reminder arrived in my email.
The pharmacy app notified me that one of her prescriptions was ready.
A package from a clothing rental service needed to be returned.
Our homeowner’s insurance renewal required updated information.
I had every password.
Every due date.
Every account number.
Marissa knew almost none of them.
For years, I had joked about that.
“Good thing you married me.”
She would smile.
“That’s why I keep you around.”
