Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

want what is best for you,” he repeated, though the words sounded hollow now, like a phrase he had memorized from a brochure.

“I am sure you do,” I said.

We stood in the quiet kitchen for another minute, the silence between us growing wider and colder than the room itself.

Julian finally picked up his briefcase from the counter, his continue reading …