“He collects them,” I said. “He has for years.”
I set his mug on the table.
“I just want a quiet day,” I whispered.
“We can still have that,” Caleb said. “We don’t have to let them take over.”
“It is just their way of showing they care,” I said, though the words felt heavy in my mouth.
I sat down opposite him and pulled the paper calendar toward me. October fourteenth was circled in blue ink, a small, lonely square among the empty months.
Caleb reached across the table and touched my hand.
“We don’t owe them anything, right?” he asked.
I looked at the blue circle on the paper.
“Of course not,” I said.
The silence in the kitchen felt thicker than usual, pressing against my temples. I stared at the calendar, feeling a strange weight in my chest despite the generous promise.
