“It slays me that you don’t respect me enough to share what’s going on with you before you actually do it. It makes me think you’re hiding something from me.”

She bites into her lower lip. Tears burn behind her eyes. But the truth of his words sears more.

“Have you seen a therapist like you said you would?”

She shakes her head.

“If you won’t talk to a professional after promising you would, how am I supposed to believe you’ll ever say anything to me?” His shoulders sag and he turns toward the hallway. “And here I thought we were doing great.”

“We were. We are!” She thought so anyway.

“Then you wouldn’t have changed your relationship status in the first place.” He pockets his phone and leaves the kitchen.

“It was a mistake,” she says, following him to the front parlor. “I forgot about it. I’m sorry. Mark, listen to me.”

“You only forget to change back a relationship status when you don’t care.” He picks up his gym bag and drops it on the couch, right on the remote she left on the cushion. The TV volume shoots to the ceiling and the breaking news report about a plane crash on the west coast fills the room like a burst bubble.

“Turn that off,” Mark bellows over the TV. His hand dives into the bag’s side pocket for his wallet and Joy thrusts her hand under his bag, searching for the remote. She pauses the TV and the screen freezes on a 737 burning on the beach.

Mark pockets his wallet and jogs upstairs, taking two steps at a time.

“Where are you going?” Joy hollers up after him, anxious he’s going to leave her but afraid to let go.

“Out.” Mark stops at the top of the stairs and looks down at her. “Don’t wait up. I’m crashing at Steve and Rachel’s.” Their bedroom door slams, waking Joy up.

She needs to come clean with Mark about Judy and her sister’s lists, and she needs to come clean with her parents about what she’d done. She doesn’t have the strength anymore to live Judy’s life, which means she no longer belongs here. She and Mark want different things. The only fair thing to do is to let him go.

Joy returns to the parlor, determined to catch Mark on his way downstairs. They’ll talk. They’ll forgive, and then they’ll part ways.

Picking up the remote, she plays the TV, diminishing the volume until it mutes. Bright red ticker tape moves across the bottom of the screen. The plane had crashed shortly after takeoff. All souls aboard were believed to have perished.

Joy turns off the TV. The news is too depressing, and she already feels sad enough.

“What’s this?”