Her own hand
Luna’s journal.
What she wrote when nobody was going to read it — filed by the room she wrote it in, and by who it’s about. One page each.
15 entriesat the lakehouse
The day the last box went
Ten years fits into fewer boxes than you would think. I counted them while he loaded the truck because…
Week two, and he's here again
The kitchen
Tyson turned up with groceries I didn't ask for and put them away in the wrong cupboards, which he knows are…
Sunday, and he had the car out
The Carrera came out of the garage, which means he had decided I was getting out of the house today whether or…
Thursday, the usual
Diner at the bottom of the hill, same booth, and he ordered for both of us wrong on purpose, which is a thing…
The rest is in the Vault
Somewhere around month four
The back deck
I am going to write one sentence in this book that I will not say out loud, and then I am going to close it…
The rest is in the Vault
I noticed something tonight
The back deck
He was fixing the rail on the deck and had his sleeves up, and I looked at his forearms for slightly too long,…
The rest is in the Vault
Late — the first cold night
The firepit
He built the fire the way he does everything — like it had already been decided and he was just catching up to…
The rest is in the Vault
He called this morning
Six months of nothing and then his name on my phone at seven in the morning like no time had passed at all.
Getting ready, and he turned up
The kitchen
I can't tell him.
The rest is in the Vault
In the bathroom, and I'm shaking a bit
The bathroom
He let himself in with groceries I didn't ask for, because of course he did, and I was standing at the mirror…
The rest is in the Vault
The next day, still haven't said it
Tyson called at eleven about the far gate needing doing before the weather turns. Eight minutes on the phone…
The rest is in the Vault
The next day, still on it
Ran it back all day like a tape. Every gap. Every look. Testing it for other explanations, because I have been…
The rest is in the Vault
Back at the firepit, on my own
The firepit
Same chairs. Same wood pile. I built the fire myself and made a worse job of it than he does, and sat in his…
The rest is in the Vault
Much later — and I need to write this down properly
It happened. I'm not going to be coy about it in my own book.
The rest is in the Vault
The morning after that
The kitchen
He made coffee. Put the cups back in the wrong cupboard on purpose. Neither of us said one word about it and…
The rest is in the Vault