I knew that he wanted to live within thirty minutes of the hospital, so he could be on call and still be home, if he chose. He often preferred to stay in the hospital anyway but liked having the option. It was something his parents had done. One of the things I’ve realized about Ezra is that he seems to see his parents’ choices as gospel—the right way to exist. He spends so much time trying to live up to what he thinks they want, trying to make them proud, trying to be good enough for them. I’m not as sure about his father, but I’m pretty sure his mother would think he was perfect even if he weren’t a doctor, lived in a different city, and failed at everything he tried. Maybe one day I’ll find a way to tell him that. And that, truly, I’m sure his father would come around, too. But in the meantime, I just try to make it easier for him to do what he thinks he needs to. I want to be someone who enables his happiness. It’s one of the things I can give to him, the way he can give his safety, his stability, to me.

“I don’t mind having to take the train,” I told him. “If it means we can get a nicer place.”

He looked down and grabbed a highlighter, adjusting his map. “Here, how’s this?” he asked.

“Looks good,” I told him.

In the end, we found a one-bedroom with a dining nook that came with a storage unit in the basement. It’s funny, we didn’t really ask each other what we were putting in the storage unit, just moved our boxes and bags in there, promising to go through them all eventually, when we bought our own place in a year or two.

My keyboard went in there, in its black carrying case. He didn’t ask me what it was. I’m not even sure if he saw it. If he did, if he asked why I kept it, I’m not sure what I would say. I haven’t spoken to Ezra much about my time in the band or as a musician. In fact, I haven’t spoken to him about them at all. Even though I combed through them and untangled them with Dr. West, they still seem like a knot in the chain of my life, like when you have a necklace that somehow gets tangled so badly that you can undo most of it, make the necklace wearable, but there’s still a small kink in the chain that you can’t undo without risking the integrity of the entire thing. The necklace looks fine, beautiful even—you just have to put the knot behind your neck so no one sees it.