“I lost my job.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“Three months after we got married, my position was eliminated.”
I stared at him.
“That doesn’t make sense. You went to work every morning.”
“I left the apartment every morning.”
The distinction hit me harder than I expected.
“Where did you go?”
“The library. Employment centers. Interviews. Anywhere I thought someone might hire me.”
I sat down beside him.
“For four months?”
He nodded.
“For almost four months.”
Suddenly, memories I’d carried for fifteen years began changing shape.
I remembered him leaving every morning in a pressed shirt and polished shoes.Compare Shoes
I remembered believing he was going to work.
I remembered packing lunches.
I remembered worrying about money, but never realizing how close we actually were to having none.
Then another memory surfaced.
“You told me your office had started giving employees free lunch.”
For illustrative purposes onlyOrder Takeout
