Susan refused to leave me.
She would show up with bags of food when I forgot to eat.
She would invite me for coffee when I had been stuck at home for too many days.
And when I didn't have the strength to speak, he would simply sit beside me in silence.
I thought I understood my pain better than anyone.
That's why, when he suggested we spend a week's vacation at the beach, I finally accepted.
"You need a change of scenery," she told me gently. "Just the two of us. Like in the old days."
For the first time in months, the idea of ​​leaving the house didn't seem unbearable.
And at first, the trip was wonderful.
We spent our mornings walking along the shore, collecting seashells and visiting small cafes overlooking the ocean.
At night we would stay up talking about memories from our childhood.
Sometimes we laughed so much that our stomachs hurt.
Other times we remained silent, contemplating how the moonlight reflected on the water.
